Reflex
by FutureMrsStabler
Summary: A new addition joins the team to help with a complicated case and proceeds to swirl the calm waters of SVU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: **Unless specifically noted, none of my stories tie in to each other. The scenarios in any previous story apply just for that story. In other words, pretend like we are wiping the slate clean and starting over when I write a new story, cool?

He made sure to keep his breaths short and controlled so as not to startle his opponent. His eyes were narrowed in intense concentration as he clenched his weapon tightly in his hands, silently creeping up closer.

He was close enough that he could reach out and touch his target. Holding his breath, he aimed and fired.

_Smack!_

Fin Tutuola jumped when he felt a sharp sting on the back of his neck. He whirled around quickly in his chair.

"God damn it!" he shouted angrily, glaring up at his partner.

John Munch scowled and shook the rolled-up piece of paper that he held in his hands. "I told you not to move!" he cried. "Thanks…there it goes again."

The fly buzzed angrily past John's head and disappeared in the folds of one of the files on Olivia's desk. He had been chasing the annoying thing for twenty minutes, trying to kill it…or maybe it was the one currently perched on top of his computer that he had been chasing…or perhaps the one buzzing around the coffee station.

It was only 10 am and already the temperature outside was hovering near eighty degrees. Early April had made its presence known with an unusual heat spell that took the citizens of New York City by surprise, and as usual, the fine city maintenance workers had programmed every building in the area to prepare for a blizzard until almost freaking June.

The 16th precinct was no exception. The thermostat had been preset at seventy-five degrees and was roasting the occupants inside. It only got worse the higher up the floors went….and of course the Special Victims Unit was on the twelfth floor of the sixteen story building.

Every window in the squad room had been opened and fans were positioned in every corner, but it did little to relieve the detectives working inside.

Olivia Benson had a file folder in one hand and was fanning herself while she wrote a report with the other. Her hair was thrown up into a haphazard ponytail and secured with a rubber band that she had taken from her partner's cup of pens. Strands not long enough to be pulled back were soaked with sweat from the back of her neck.

Elliot Stabler sat across from her, working on his own stack of reports. The pen he held kept slipping because his hand was so sweaty. He had taken off his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his red dress shirt, unbuttoning the top button. Sweat was beaded on his upper lip and eyebrows and soaked his back through the heavy cotton.

They had at least five empty water bottles strewn on the desk between them, and Elliot was working on a sixth as he wrote. The plastic crinkled in his hand as he sucked the contents of the Aquafina bottle down greedily.

Olivia looked up in annoyance. Her partner paid no attention, sucking harder on the plastic pop-up top. The bottle made a loud crackling sound as he drained the last drops.

She threw her pen down in irritation. "Do you have to do that?" she snapped.

He looked at her in surprise, prying his lips from the top. They produced a sucking noise, which only irritated her more.

"Do what?" he asked, tossing the bottle into the pile littering their desk.

"Make so much _noise_ when you drink!" she exclaimed. "Jesus, Elliot…you drink water louder than a dog does."

"Well, _excuse _me!" he shot back. "I didn't realize my drinking water was one of your hundreds of pet peeves, Olivia."

"Cut it out, you two!" Cragen said sternly as he stepped out of his office. "I mean it…if I hear one more word out of you, both of you will be on desk duty for the rest of the day."

He watched them silently resume working and sighed. The heat had the entire squad on edge. Tempers were short and patience was thin, especially his. Usually, he could tolerate immature sniping from his detectives, but today he was at his limit.

Surprisingly, the two he would have normally expected to be throwing stones at each other were working quietly. It was the "dynamic duo", as they were infamously nicknamed, that seemed to be at it today.

Fin got up and went over to the file cabinet, removing several folders before sticking one inside and shutting it again.

The phone on his desk rang as he was walking back, and Munch reached for it.

"Special Victims Unit," he answered. "Detective Munch."

Olivia finished the report she was writing and pushed it aside, running a hand through her short ponytail. The rubber band holding her hair up suddenly snapped as she pulled at her hair. It landed on top of Elliot's file. He rolled his eyes and flicked it to the floor.

"Shit," she muttered.

She reached across the desk and poked through Elliot's cup of pens, finding nothing. Pushing away from the desk, she crouched down and opened a desk drawer in search of a rubber band.

"Aw, MAN!"

Her cry of disgust caught her partner's attention, making him look up. She had a look of repulsion on her face as she looked down inside the desk drawer.

"What?" he asked.

Olivia wrinkled her nose and gingerly pulled out a stack of papers. A dark, sticky substance was all over it.

"What the hell is that?" Fin asked, as he came past her on his way back to his desk.

She held the stack up with two fingers and tossed it down on top of the desk.

"_That_," she said in disgust, "would be the Hershey bar that I was looking for last week."

Elliot laughed, earning a glare from her.

"What are you laughing at, Stabler?" she asked edgily. "These are _your_ files…I put them in my desk that day we were so swamped, remember?"

The amusement flooded from his face. "Crap," he said, reaching for them. He pulled the papers onto his side of the desk and peered at them, trying to figure out what they were. "Maybe they're not import-"

The date on the top caught his eye and made him groan. "Of course," he said angrily. "These would have to be the case notes for the hearing tomorrow." He was a key witness in a rape case set to be heard the next morning, and Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak had given him the notes to look over.

Getting to his feet, he headed for the bathroom to get a damp paper towel.

Cragen stepped out of his open office door again. "Alright, who's catching?"

"We are," Munch and Olivia said simultaneously. They looked at each other in surprise.

Elliot came back into the room with a wad of paper towels in his hand. The captain caught a glimpse of his desk and made an appalled face. "What the hell-?" Then he shook his head. "Forget it. I don't even want to know."

"It's our turn," Munch was saying. "You guys just finished the Ramirez case."

"That was two days ago," Olivia argued, "and you guys caught the rape homicide on 35th while we wore working that case."

"Dude, we were there for like two minutes," Fin interjected. "That doesn't even count."

Elliot looked up as he was gently wiping the papers. "What the hell does that mean?" he asked Fin incredulously. "Are you keeping a tally now or something? If so, then it's definitely our turn…we spent over five hours combing through those surveillance tapes."

Olivia turned her head toward her partner. "What do you mean '_we_'?" she asked, snidely. "I don't remember your ass sitting in the cramped store room rewinding a hundred video cassettes."

If looks could kill, she would have been dead and buried. "Excuse me?" he asked. "I watched just as many tapes as you did, Olivia."

"Oh, yeah," she said sarcastically. "Until you _conveniently_ remembered that someone still had to interview the hotel clerk. I'm sure it was just a coincidence that it just happened to be in the only room in the whole building with working air conditioning, right?"

He looked at her in shock. "I can't believe you!" he cried. "You are so full of-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Don bellowed angrily. They jumped, having forgotten he was standing there. He pushed past Fin to stand in between the two desks. "Shut up-all of you!"

The four of them fell silent. "You guys have three seconds to grow the hell up before I suspend every one of you… do _not_ push my buttons today," he snapped. "I don't care _who _caught the last damn case…everyone go to this one."

Elliot pushed his sleeves down and began buttoning his shirt back up. Munch walked toward the door, followed by Fin. Cragen held out files for each of them as they passed him.

"Dead prostitute on 15th Avenue," he said, glaring at each detective individually as they left. "The M.E. is expecting you….thank you." Elliot brought up the rear. He gave the captain an exasperated look as he took the file from him and followed after the others.

"I'm driving," he heard Munch say as the four stopped to wait for the elevator.

"The hell you are," Fin fired back as the doors opened and they stepped inside.

Cragen rolled his eyes and turned back around toward the squad room. He pulled at his collar uncomfortably and sighed. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Olivia reached over and turned up the air conditioner as soon as Elliot started the car. She sighed in relief when the cold air blasted out immediately, and turned the vents towards her.

Elliot shot her a dark look.

"Sorry," she said. She moved two of the vents to face him.

"That's pretty damn pathetic that its cooler in here than it is in the squad room," he said, pulling out into the flow of traffic.

Olivia flipped down the visor and started fixing her ponytail in the small mirror. "Yeah," she agreed. "But I'll take this over crappy fans that blow more hot air than cold."

"I never thought I'd ever hear myself say this," he continued, shivering involuntarily when the cool air grazed his sweaty neck. "But I hope we get stuck in traffic."

"Will you just get in the damn car?" Fin cried in exasperation. "Olivia and Elliot are probably halfway there by now."

Munch didn't move from the curb. "Nope," he said stubbornly. "Two out of three, Tutuola."

Fin sighed angrily. They had been standing in front of the car for five minutes. He threw the keys on top of the car and stalked back over to where his partner stood.

"This is the last fucking time I'm doing this, man," he snapped. "I'm not even close to kidding."

John just smiled and held out his hand patiently. Fin cut his eyes at him and held out his own quickly. "Go," he said shortly.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors….Shoot!"

They each held up a hand; Munch had paper and Fin had rock.

John smirked and stepped off of the curb. "See….told you I was driving," he said smugly, snatching the keys from the top. His partner ignored him and slammed the door as he got inside.

Elliot pulled the sedan to a stop on the corner of 16th avenue and shut off the ignition. They crossed the busy intersection and began walking towards 15th. The heat was amplified by the thrush of people pushing them down the sidewalk, each one seemingly more pissed off by the weather than the next.

Olivia was suddenly very glad that she was a woman- the dress code was a lot more lenient towards female officers than males. Everyone was required to dress professionally during the week, but she could get away with her current sleeveless polo because it had a collar.

Elliot pulled slightly ahead of her, and she felt a wave of sympathy for him. Men in the squad didn't have the same luxury. Because they were on duty, he had to wear a sport jacket over his dress shirt. She felt hot just looking at him…she knew he had to be suffocating.

She was right. Elliot honestly felt right now that he could pass out from heatstroke. He was sweating so much that he could feel it dripping into his eyes, and was constantly reaching up to wipe them. Huffing, he picked up the pace, wanting to get this done as soon as humanly possible and get back in the blessed air-conditioning.

Their expressions changed as they came within sight distance of the crime scene. The smell of rotting flesh was never on their list of favorite scents, but when it was combined with searing heat….it was absolutely unbearable. Olivia gagged out loud and quickly covered her mouth and nose.

"Detectives."

Medical Examiner Melinda Warner stood up from her crouched position when she saw them coming. She pulled off a rubber glove and wiped a hand over her forehead.

"Hey, Doc," Elliot greeted, trying to ignore the stench. "What've we got?"

"Caucasian; looks to be between 19 and 24 years old," she answered, crouching down again. They crouched next to her as she pulled the sheet off to reveal the body. "Probably been dead around four hours…bruising around the neck indicates she was choked to death, but I won't know for sure until I get down to the morgue."

The two detectives scanned the body with the trained eye of an experienced law enforcement officer. Dark, mottled bruises patterned her throat and neck. Her face was also bruised, and showed signs of a broken nose.

"Well, somebody beat the hell out of her," Elliot murmured, his gaze sweeping downward. His eyes caught something and he nudged Olivia. "Hey."

She looked over at him and followed his gaze. "Blood," she said in surprise, looking at the broken fingernails. "She fought back."

Something else caught her eye, and she squinted to get a closer look. "Hey, Elliot," she said. He looked over from where he had been assessing her upper body. "Do you see that?"

His looked down, then back at her in surprise and bewilderment to see the same expression on her face. "What the hell is that?"

Munch's dry, sarcastic voice suddenly cut into the air. "Hey, Doc…when's the last time you had a shower?"

Warner smirked, not taking her eyes off of the evidence bag she was writing on. "Cute," she said wryly.

"Melinda." The urgent voice of Elliot made her turn her head.

Fin, Munch, and Melinda all went over to where Elliot and Olivia were crouched by the body. They both wore startled expressions.

"Take a look at this," he continued, moving slightly so that she could bend down next to him. Warner lifted up the limp hand and Elliot pointed to her fingers. Each one was chalked with grey residue. "You ever seen anything like that?"

She looked surprised. "No," she answered. Her brow furrowed as she lifted the index finger and turned it over to get a look at all sides. "No, I haven't."

The discovery in itself didn't surprise the four detectives…they had seen a lot of weird things in their years. What surprised them was the uneasiness that they heard in Melinda's voice. It was something they had never heard before.

Twenty minutes later, the detectives were heading back for their cars. Warner had immediately taken the body back to the morgue, saying she would call them the second she knew what the substance was.

"Jesus," Olivia gasped, as they crossed the street. "I thought I was going to throw up back there…did you smell that?"

"I think every person within a 20 mile radius could smell that," Fin said in disgust. "I know I won't have an appetite for the rest of the day."

"Ditto," Elliot muttered.

The ride back to the station was much too short. Elliot took every possible alternative route he could think of to prolong staying in the air-conditioned car, but it seemed like ten minutes before they were back.

"Updates, people," Cragen said when they stepped into the squad room.

Elliot peeled off his sport jacket and tossed it on the back of his chair. He immediately unbuttoned his shirt again and sighed in relief.

"No outward signs of sexual assault; bruises around her neck," Olivia reported, sitting down. "We found some sort of residue on her fingers. Warner is checking into it."

"But judging from the ripeness, the body wasn't found for a long time after she died," Elliot threw in.

Don grimaced. "How long?"

"Long enough for the flies to start taking cover," Munch interrupted as he and Fin came in. "Honestly…I doubt even they would come near a stench that bad."

Elliot went to the refrigerator and removed four bottles of water, setting one on Olivia's desk and throwing one to Fin.

"As much as it pains me to say…" he said, handing Munch a bottle. "I have to agree on that one."

Cragen rolled his eyes, but was relieved to see that they weren't arguing anymore. He was glad to see his theory about the heat had been right.

"Make sure you get to the morgue as soon as Warner calls," he advised, before stepping back into his office.

They nodded. Elliot waited until the door was shut, and grinned devilishly. Taking his water bottle, he aimed it across the desk and squirted Olivia, making her jump.

"Hey!" she cried as water suddenly shot onto the file she was writing on. Elliot just looked at her with a shit-eating grin on his face. She scoffed snidely. "Grow up, Elliot."

He shrugged, obviously disappointed with the reaction he had received, and put the bottle aside. A minute later, a stream of water hit him directly in the eyes. His head snapped up. Olivia had a wicked grin of her own on her face.

"Oh, now who needs to grow up?" he retorted, but grinned and picked up his bottle again. Olivia shrieked when he aimed it straight at her face and squeezed hard.

"Hey," Munch said. "Remember what the captain said…."

Olivia flicked water at him with her hand, cutting off his scolding. His face registered shock that quickly turned to defense. Glaring, he cupped water in his hand and threw it at her. She ducked, and Elliot got a face full instead.

"Dude!" he shouted.

Munch held his hands up quickly at Elliot's evil look. "I was aiming for her!" he cried in defense.

"Oh, yeah?" Elliot asked. Rolling his chair around the desk, he took the top of the bottle in his hands and heaved it upward, making water fly out. It landed all over John.

"Oh, that's it!" he cried, abandoning his writing. He stood up and began coming at Elliot with his water bottle.

Elliot quickly rolled around the desk and grabbed Olivia by the shoulders, using her as a shield. "Don't shoot!" he cried, laughing. "I surrender!"

She reached behind her and twisted his wrist hard. "Ow!" he howled. She laughed loudly. "I got him, Munch!" she cried, holding on tight. "Go for it!"

His mouth dropped open. "Olivia!" His expression changed to amused fear as John came closer, aiming the bottle. He twisted in her grip, but she dug her fingers in, trapping him.

The phone rang, startling them. They all looked at it, but none made a move for it. Fin rolled his eyes and reached for it as Munch eyed Elliot warily.

"Tutuola," he said.

Olivia snickered quietly as Munch flicked water at Elliot. Fin waved at her to be quiet, a threatening look on his face. "Yeah….," he went on. "Uh-huh…ok…"

Grinning, John moved away from Elliot and went toward Fin. Pouring some water in his hand, he began flicking it at him. Fin gave him a look that could have melted ice, but continued speaking.

"Yep…got it," he said. He grit his teeth as more water hit him in the face. "Ok…thanks, Doc," he said quickly, slamming the phone down.

Her turned around, eyes flashing, and picked up the bottle from his desk. "Munch, you are so immature!" he yelled, throwing fistfuls of water at him with each syllable.

Don opened his office door again and stepped out into the room. "Was that….?" He trailed off in exasperation and shook his head. The four of them were now having a water fight and laughing like idiots.

"Guys," he scolded, trying to mask the amusement in his tone.

They all looked at him guiltily. He trailed off again and rolled his eyes. Clothes were straightened and chairs quickly rolled back in place.

"Was that Warner?" he repeated.

Fin cleared his throat, trying to swallow his laughter. "Yeah," he answered with as straight a face as he could manage. "She finished the lab tests."

Cragen nodded. "You and Munch get down there," he said. "Olivia, Elliot…forensics is done with the fingerprints; go see if we have any matches."

They stood up to go their separate ways. Elliot burst out laughing at the sight of Munch's hair dripping at the ends.

"So, what's the news, Doc?" Fin asked Melinda. They were gathered around a slab with the body of the prostitute lying on it.

She pulled off her goggles. "I ran a tox screen over her hands to see if the residue was chemical," she said. "I found traces of lighter fluid."

Munch looked at her quizzically. "Like the kind from a cigarette lighter?"

"No," she said, pinning him with a hard stare. "Like the kind from a blow torch."

The phone on Cragen's desk rang about three hours later. After reporting their findings, there was nothing else yet to do. Don gave them more files to work on and jokingly threatened to give them a time-out if they picked up another water bottle.

"Cragen," he answered. He was surprised to hear Casey Novak on the other end. "Hi, Casey…how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she answered, disturbance clear in her tone. "Listen, um…I just got a call from my boss…did your detectives catch a prostitute case this morning?"

"Yes," he answered, confused. "Why?"

His expression turned from confused to stunned as he listened to her.

"What?" he asked, appalled. "No way."

"Yes, way," she answered wryly. "They also said…." His eyebrows shot up at her next words.

"Oh, boy," he said heavily. He turned his chair to face the window, his eyes zeroing in on Elliot. "He's not going to like this, Casey….he's not going to like this at all."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Sighing, Don ended the call and dialed another number.

"Jeff Hammond, please," he said, when a voice answered. "This is Captain Donald Cragen of Manhattan Special Victims."

He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited.

"This is Chief Hammond," a man said.

"Jeff," Don greeted. "It's Don Cragen."

"Donny!" the man exclaimed. "How the hell have you been, man?"

He smiled briefly. "Can't complain, Jeff, can't complain." Leaning back, he got straight to the point. "What's this I hear about you guys talking to our D.A.?"

"A blow torch?" Elliot asked skeptically. He looked at Fin quizzically.

Fin nodded. "Yeah, that was our reaction, too."

"What's a prostitute doing with a blow torch?" Olivia asked. "Surely the johns haven't gotten _that _extreme."

They all saw Munch's face twist into the smug look that he always got when he was about to spout off some conspiracy theory.

"Don't," Fin cut him off, holding up a warning finger. "Spare us, please."

He looked insulted. "So quick to judge," he said. "I was just going to say…maybe she hooked up with a biochemist?" He snorted in amusement at his own joke.

Olivia smirked and rolled her eyes. Elliot and Fin exchanged looks of disgust before each throwing a pen in his direction.

Cragen came out of the office then, holding a sheet of paper. "We're working, I swear," Elliot said quickly, getting his pen back.

The captain had a preoccupied look on his face. "What's wrong, Captain?" John asked.

He looked at them hesitantly, trying to figure out how exactly to piece together his bombshell. "We've got… an interesting dilemma with this new case," he hedged.

When he didn't say anything else, Elliot looked at him curiously. "How so?"

Don cursed inwardly. Figures that Elliot would be the one immediately interested.

"Well…it's a little more complicated than it looks," he said finally. He was still stalling, and by now they could all recognize that.

"How so?" Olivia pressed, echoing her partner.

"Your prostitute isn't a prostitute," he burst out, tired of the dance. He would have to get it out sooner or later anyway. "Guys, I don't know how we weren't made aware of this, but it seems that our dead girl is actually a dead undercover cop."

Their expressions turned into stunned horror in a matter of seconds. "Wha-?" Fin began.

"The Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms for the state of New York has been tracking an apparent serial arsonist," Cragen said. "They have been chasing him for a little over two months and found out that apparently, the guy is well-known for his habit of picking up prostitutes. The agency decided to send in one of their own as a decoy to draw him out."

Olivia closed her eyes. "He made her," she surmised grimly, her voice turning the statement into a hesitant question.

"How come Warner didn't say anything?" Elliot asked, staring at the captain with a new look of intensity in his eyes.

"She didn't know," he said quickly. "ATF provided a false ID, which is what was found on her body. There was too big a risk of her cover being blown for her to carry a piece and shield…she was just supposed to be eye candy long enough for the others to take down the guy."

"So what went wrong?" Olivia continued quietly.

"No one knows," the captain said gravely. "I spoke to Chief Jeff Hammond a few minutes ago. By the time the undercover agents got to the hotel room where the guy had taken her, they were both gone. He killed her, dumped the body, and took off again."

"That explains the blow torch," Munch murmured suddenly. They all looked at him. "Serial arsonist…maybe he was trying to light her on fire and she fought back, which is why he choked her to death instead."

The statement was so gruesomely disturbing that it made them all cringe. But they had to admit he may have had a point. "How many places has the guy burned down?" Munch continued.

"According to Hammond, over twenty retail stores in Jersey," Cragen confirmed. "They didn't think about the possibility of him moving to New York until there were another three suspicious fires last week."

"How did ATF know that the guy liked prostitutes if they haven't been able to catch up with him?" Elliot suddenly burst out. He had been sitting with his brow furrowed, obviously in deep thought. "If they were close enough to watch him looking for his next fix, how is it that they weren't close enough to arrest him?"

His tone was skeptical and full of criticism, which wasn't lost on the others around him.

Cragen chose to ignore the questions. "Hammond went to Arthur Branch," he said. "Since we're the closest precinct to the area where the guy has been known to appropriate, he wants us to get in on the investigation."

"Why?" Elliot burst out. "So that we can get one of _our_ female officers killed?" He was looking at Olivia when he said this, and Don knew he was thinking about her.

"We're not going to go that route," he said quickly. "They sent an ATF agent from Jersey down here yesterday to join our team as part of a new surveillance detail. He's going to be our mediator for ATF, because they want to stay to look for connections in the fires there."

"When do we start?" Munch asked.

Cragen checked his watch. "He should be arriving any time…his flight left South Amboy at noon."

"So, is it just our precinct working this?" Olivia asked. "I would think that we'd have a better chance of catching this guy if the other SVU teams in the area were involved as well."

Don cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well…" he stammered. "It's actually funny you should say that."

He was speaking to everyone, but his gaze fell on Elliot. "The agent coming here actually requested us," he said. He bit his lip. "And….he also requested to team up with Elliot for this."

Elliot's face reflected surprise and confusion as he looked at him. The other three looked at Elliot, then Don in confusion as well.

"Does this guy know me?" he asked.

Ceagen closed one eye in trepidation. "You…you might say that," he said slowly.

At Elliot's uncomprehending look, he handed him the piece of paper he was holding.

Elliot scrunched his eyebrows suspiciously as he began reading over it. Cragen was holding his breath, waiting for what he knew would be coming.

Olivia was watching him warily, but her thoughts were becoming dangerous….who did this guy think he was, wanting her to give up _her_ partner for a case?

There was a tense silence as they continued watching. Elliot scanned the bottom of the page, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"Aw…_hell _no!" he burst out suddenly, making them jump. He jerked his head towards Cragen with disbelief in his eyes.

"Elliot," Don said carefully. "We have-"

They were surprised again when Elliot jumped up. "No," he said quickly, cutting him off. "No, Captain….forget it. It's not going to happen."

A threatening look began taking over the captain's face. They all recognized it…_you're on thin ice and wearing heavy shoes_.

"This isn't a request, Detective," he said edgily.

They now knew for sure that trouble was about to brew. The captain only addressed them as "Detective" when he was pissed.

Elliot folded his arms and looked Don straight in the face. "I'm not doing it," he said boldly.

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. Her partner had the judgment of a lima bean…as many times as he had pissed of Cragen in the past, one would think he would know when to shut up and say "yes, sir". She swallowed and waited tensely for his reaction.

The dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as Cragen stepped closer to Elliot. Just as he was about to open his mouth, a voice from behind them interrupted:

"Sorry I'm late; my flight got a little delayed."

Swiveling around, Olivia looked toward the source. A tall man with sandy blond hair was standing in the doorway. He wore a black jacket with an "ATF" patch on the left breast pocket and an imposing-looking Beretta on his right hip. His expression was cool as he looked at everyone.

Elliot's eyes narrowed as the captain stepped away from him.

"Don't worry about it," he said, going over to the man. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Captain Donald Cragen."

The man shook his hand firmly, but his eyes were looking at Elliot. He said nothing.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Cragen turned around. "Welcome to the team," he said, facing the man for a minute. Then he addressed the detectives.

"Manhattan Special Victims Unit….meet Agent Sean Stabler."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: I thought I was pretty clear in my intentions by now, but I seem to be getting new readers with every story…let me just say loud and clear that this IS NOT and WILL NOT BECOME an E/O story. Furthermore, there is also no chance of any of my stories involving a romance between ANY characters. If that turns anyone off to my writing, I apologize.**

The three detectives looked shocked. Don waited for someone to start the introductions, but no one said anything. Shooting them a mutinous look, he gestured to each one in turn.

"Detectives John Munch, Odafin Tutuola, Olivia Benson….and obviously you know Elliot," he said.

Sean smirked. "Obviously," he repeated. "Nice to meet everyone."

Still no one spoke. Looking decidedly uncomfortable, the agent turned to Cragen. "Captain, a moment of your time?" he asked. "I've got some information we need to discuss about this case."

"Sure," he agreed. "Come on to my office."

As he passed, Sean slapped Elliot lightly on the shoulder. "How ya doing, Medic?" he smirked. Elliot's response was a vicious stare.

Cragen glared at them as he passed. "I'll deal with you later," he muttered angrily, glancing briefly at each detective. They went into his office and shut the door.

Once they disappeared, the three looked at Elliot. He glared back at them quickly, and they could tell he was pissed. Munch and Fin, after a brief glance at each other, decided not to risk setting him off and opted not to say anything as they went quietly back to their desks.

Olivia followed Elliot back to theirs and decided to take a chance.

"So, um…." she began, and hesitated. Elliot realized then that he probably looked like he wanted to bitch slap someone, and made an effort to relax. He turned to face her, giving her his attention with raised eyebrows.

She accepted his white flag and smiled. "Medic?" she questioned, raising her own eyebrows in amusement.

He rolled his eyes. God, he could kill Sean. "My middle name is Matthew," he said wryly, as if that answer was the solution to every question known to man.

She looked at him blankly, not getting the point.

"Elliot Matthew Stabler….," he elaborated. She still didn't get it, and he rolled his eyes in irritation. "E.M.S.? Paramedic?"

"Ohhh," she said as it dawned on her what he was saying.

He rolled his eyes again. "What can I say?" he said, shrugging. "My parents are cruel."

Olivia smiled, and he returned it. "I mean," he went on. "They couldn't even give him a crappy middle name like Otis or something, so I could call him S.O.S."

She laughed this time.

"He's called me that since I was seven…you'd think after so long a person would get a hobby or something."

"Who's older?" Munch asked.

Elliot turned toward him. "Age wise?" he asked. Munch shrugged. "He is…he's six years older." His face twisted into a scowl suddenly. "Maturity wise….now that's debatable."

"Alright, sounds good." The captain's voice floated out into the room as he opened the door. He and Sean came back out to join them.

"Listen up," Cragen said to them. "I realize this is going a bit fast, but we have no choice but to jump in headfirst. Time is too precious a commodity to be wasted." He glanced briefly at the detectives before gesturing the agent to take the lead.

"What we're looking at is a ticking time bomb," Sean said. "Our team in Jersey has been getting their asses kicked for two months by this psycho….the closer we think we are to him, the further away he really is."

He crossed his arms and shifted his weight as he continued. "The fires started out low-key…..small things, like a shed behind an auto parts store. The first week had at best three fires, but they were all sporadic and none were near any places of residence. Nothing to draw any attention besides that of the local fire department."

Olivia was watching the man as he was speaking. She had known by the name that he was one of Elliot's brothers, but had, quite frankly, been surprised when she saw him. They didn't look anything alike….not even a little.

Elliot's features made heads turn. His eyes had a way of drawing a person in and holding them captive. They were so intense and expressive that even the most preoccupied person had to look twice…she knew this because she had seen it firsthand on many occasions. Not to mention that they were such a beautiful blue that Olivia seriously considered patenting a Crayola crayon after them.

His facial structure was strong and yet so hauntingly fragile that it seemed almost like a work of art; his smile, when fully exposed, was so gorgeous that it made her green with envy. She was surprised traffic didn't stop when he walked outside. It made her sick sometimes to see how little he seemed to notice just how good-looking he really was.

Sean Stabler, however, she wouldn't have been able to pick from a crowd. His sand-colored hair was somewhat unkempt and stuck up in some places. She had assumed that the eyes would be a family trait, so was startled when she saw that his were light brown. His face was more round, and full of freckles. He was stockier than Elliot, but every bit as tall. That and the way the both stood with proud, firm postures were the only things they had similar.

She shook herself as she realized she wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying, and hoped her eyes hadn't given away that she had been zoning out.

"Over the course of the next two days, there were five more fires, each set at the same time," Sean was saying. "It was then that we began to realize this wasn't just a coincidence. The fire department contacted Chief Hammond and asked for his assistance, believing we may be looking at arson."

He looked at them solemnly. "Around the time we began to realize they may have been right, things began getting ugly. Before we knew it, six more fires had been set, and had escalated…they were now moving to retail stores with people inside."

Cragen looked at him grimly. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Not hurt," he said roughly. "Killed….that was his goal all along."

Elliot looked at him with contempt in his expression, and it reflected in his voice when he spoke. "How do you know that?"

None of them missed the way Sean's demeanor changed when he addressed his brother. His face twisted slightly into a defensive glare. "All of the emergency exits had chicken wire wrapped around the handles so that they couldn't be opened without cutting it," he said snidely. "Sounds pretty obvious to me."

Elliot just scoffed and leaned back in his chair, his expression saying clearly that he didn't give a shit what Sean thought.

Cragen was quick to draw the conversation back to focus. "So, when did your undercover cop get involved?"

"The last fire set in Jersey was a motel that was pretty much famous for its hourly customers, if you catch my drift," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Olivia almost smirked and caught herself just in time. That cocky one-eyebrow thing...she could easily remember images of Elliot doing the same with his own dark eyebrows. If that wasn't a dead giveaway of a Stabler, she didn't know what was.

"When the guy got to New York, the first fires he set were in the same places….hotels and motels around known areas of prostitution," Sean said. "Guess he figured nobody would miss working girls."

"But there had to be other people in those places that weren't prostitutes," Elliot argued. "The last time I checked, maids and desk clerks didn't get their paychecks on the street corner."

Another smoldering glare was shot in his direction before Sean quickly looked back at the others. "We decided to take a chance…we didn't know where he would strike next, so we sent five female agents undercover on street corners near where the last hotel was burned."

He went quiet suddenly. "He set us up," he said softly. "Guy set a fire two blocks from the perimeters where we were positioned…when we went to it, he got to our girl."

There was a minute of tense silence among the detectives and their captain.

"Is it possible that he somehow caught on that he was being watched?" Cragen asked.

"No doubt in my mind," he said. "I don't know how he did it…but he was on to us before we had any idea."

"Then we need to get moving on this right away," Munch said, surprising them. He stood up from his chair. "The longer we sit here, the more innocent people are going to die."

Cragen straightened from where he had been leaning against Elliot's side of the desk. "I agree," he said. "So here's what we're going to do."

He went over to the chalkboard. "Agent Stabler has contacted three local fire and rescue teams and asked them to put together a 24-hour emergency crew to stand on call at any time," he said. He drew a sloppy circle and put an X in the middle. "They're going to be at station number 15 on the west side of the Manhattan Bridge."

He then drew a line from the circle and drew a box. "This is the location of the latest fire," he said, writing the name of the hotel under it. "And this…" He drew another line and another circle. "is the street corner where we found our victim."

Turning, he faced his team. "We're going to set up surveillance teams between here…" He indicated the area between the firehouse and the hotel, "and here," he said, pointing to the area between the hotel and the street corner.

He could tell by the look on Elliot's face that he was dying to say something, so Don continued quickly so he wouldn't have a chance.

"This is just so we can get a feel for it," he said. "The actuality of this guy coming to the same area when he knows he has cops already on to him is pretty slim"

"So when are we going out there?" Fin asked.

"Tomorrow night," Sean was quick to say. "Our guy is somewhat of a night owl."

"I'm going to spend the rest of tonight and tomorrow dividing everyone into teams," Don said. "But, Olivia- plan on working with Munch and Fin for this. Sean and Elliot, you'll be our lead team."

He saw the scowl that crossed Elliot's face. "Alright, everyone?" he questioned. "Any questions?"

No one responded in the affirmative. Cragen nodded. "Then you are officially off for the rest of the night."

Fin's eyebrows shot up. "Sweet!" he said.

As they were getting up, Don turned to Sean. "Have you got a place to stay?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm staying at the Hilton in east Chelsea…hey, would it be alright if I went ahead and left this stuff here, since we're going to be here tomorrow anyway?" He indicated the full messenger bag on his shoulder.

"Oh, sure," Don said quickly. "You can use my office if you-"

"Nah, that's alright," Sean cut him off. He turned toward Elliot. "You won't mind if I use your locker while I'm here, will you?"

Before he replied, Sean was already walking over to it. Elliot threw a disbelieving look at Olivia. "Actually," he began, his voice bitter. "I-"

He cut himself off as he watched his brother spin the combination lock and snap it open. His eyes widened quickly. "How the hell-?" he began sputtering.

Sean threw him a supercilious look. "_Please,_ Elliot," he said arrogantly. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't know what your locker combination is? You're so freaking predictable it's pathetic."

That did it. Elliot flung himself out of the chair, and Olivia saw the lightning flash in his eyes. "You know what, Sean-" he began angrily.

"Elliot," Don interrupted quickly. "Let me see you in my office. Everyone else, get out of here. Now."

Olivia shot him a sympathetic look as she was walking out the door, and gestured that she would call him later. He nodded before turning toward Cragen's office. He passed his brother and gave him a cold stare. Sean ignored it as he left.

As soon as the door was shut, Elliot exploded.

"Sir, _how_ could you let them do this?" he said, infuriated. "Who did I piss off? Tell me and I'll go there right now and kiss the feet of whoever the hell it is!"

"Elliot," Don said. "Look, I'm sorry. I know you aren't happy about this…"

"Not happy about this?" Elliot burst out incredulously. "My brother and I haven't spoken in almost three years! He's the biggest dick I've ever met!"

"What the hell would you like me to do, Elliot?" Cragen yelled, losing his patience. "The Chief of ATF called and told me what he was doing and the Commissioner already gave it a thumbs-up. What was I supposed to do? Tell him no?"

"You sure as hell never have a problem saying it to us," Elliot spat out angrily.

As soon as the words left his mouth, his mind caught up. _Fuck._ He could see Cragen's face turned to pissed off in a matter of seconds. But he was already on a roll, and he couldn't stop. "Come on, Captain. This isn't fair…they totally blindsided me here."

"They blindsided me, too, you know," he snapped. "You think I had this in mind? There are at least fifty cases already being backlogged by the unit, and now we've got to push them even further back to concentrate on this one. Who knows how long this will take?"

"I know that," Elliot said. "But-"

"No!" Cragen growled, cutting him off. "No buts, Elliot! I don't know what the problem is with you two, and frankly, I don't care. You got the assignment… deal with it or turn in your badge. It's your choice."

Elliot was so pissed that he wanted to spit, and kept his teeth tightly clenched to avoid saying what was on his mind at the moment. Telling your boss to fuck off isn't a great way to stay employed.

Glaring angrily at the captain, he turned on his heel without a word and stormed out of the office.

Olivia waited until about a half hour after she was settled in for the night to call Elliot. She was surprised when he didn't answer; she would have expected him to be home by now…it was almost 11:30.

Shrugging, she pulled the comforter down and hopped into bed.

Elliot made it to the Queens exit and nearly dropped the transmission flooring the accelerator. He had been stuck on the interstate for nearly three hours due to an accident in the tunnel, and the need to speed ran through his veins.

He was lucky there were no radar cops out tonight. He made it to his apartment complex in almost triple the time it would have normally taken him

Having no choice but to sit in his truck for three hours made his anger flare more rapidly, but he was forced to let it simmer….what the hell else could he have done? It's not like he could have gotten out and ran laps around a six-lane expressway.

By the time he got home, he was beat. He kicked the apartment door shut behind him and locked it securely, wanting nothing more than to take a long, hot shower and go to sleep.

_She was startled when the man they were arresting broke free and began sprinting down the sidewalk. Elliot was tearing after him in a second and she hurried to catch up. By the time she reached him, the man had disappeared around the bend._

_The pouring rain was so thick that she couldn't see where she was going. She shivered as she felt herself becoming soaked. Elliot gestured toward the alley ahead, and she nodded. Her heart pounded frantically as she gripped her gun tightly in her hand._

_She peered cautiously around the corner of a dumpster before stepping out in front of it. Elliot silently pointed a finger towards the next corner and she nodded. The pair continued creeping quietly through the alley._

_Before they knew it, they had reached the end of the alley and had seen no sign of their suspect._

_Sighing in disgust, Olivia turned to tell Elliot that they should head back, and was startled to see that he was no longer beside her._

"_Elliot?" she called in confusion, turning around quickly. He had completely vanished._

'_What the hell?' she thought. 'Where did he go?'_

_She began walking back towards the direction they had come from, calling her partner's name._

"_Olivia," he called, stepping out from behind a dumpster. "See him?"_

"_No," she answered. "Where could he have gone? It's a dead end."_

_Elliot began walking toward her, holstering his gun. A sudden blur of movement from behind him caught her attention._

_Her eyes widened when she saw the man coming up behind Elliot. He was carrying a blow torch._

"_ELLIOT!" she screamed. "LOOK OUT!"_

_He didn't seem to hear her, because he kept walking toward her. Frantically, she tried to shoot the man, but her gun didn't work anymore. She tried to run to her partner, but her legs wouldn't cooperate._

"_ELLIOT!" she screamed desperately. "MOVE!"_

_The torch ignited, and Olivia watched in horror as Elliot became engulfed in flames. His terrified screams raised the hair on her arms. _

"_Olivia!" he screamed. "Help me! PLEASE HELP ME!"_

_She twisted with all her might, trying to move her legs, but they wouldn't budge. Elliot kept screaming, and all she could do was watch as the flames began to burn him alive._

Olivia bolted upright, screaming. For another terrifying moment, she was engulfed in darkness. Then her eyes adjusted, and she realized she was in her bed.

The apartment was quiet. Elliot was sprawled in his bed, fast asleep, when a sudden noise made him jump violently. His eyes flew open and he rolled over, his body tense.

He had always had a secret fear of someone breaking in. Even now, as a cop, the thought terrified him.

He lay rigid, his heart hammering in his ears. Another noise made him jump out of his skin and fumbled for his gun, unhooking the safety. He held it tightly in his hands like it was a life preserver and he was drowning in the Pacific.

_You're hearing things, _he thought desperately. _You're hearing things…_

His breathing seemed to echo around the room as he lay tensely, clutching the weapon. When he heard the noise again, he recognized the source. Footsteps.

He heard the hallway carpet groan outside his bedroom door. His gaze fell to the ground, and he saw a shadow moving from the crack under the door.

_Oh, fuck…oh, fuck…oh, fuck!_

He rolled out of bed. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly aim his gun as he crept towards the door.

The sight of the doorknob slowly turning made his mouth go dry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

He gripped the gun tighter in a vain attempt to steady his hands, and held his breath as the knob stopped turning. As the door began to open slowly, Elliot planted his feet in as firm a shooting stance as his socks would allow and sent a quick plea to God for this person not to have a weapon.

Watching tensely as the door continued opening wider, a sudden thought made the blood rush from his face- he had taken the bullets out of the gun this very evening when he got home, so that he could clean the chamber.

A shadowed figure stepped slowly through the doorway, and animal instinct made Elliot rush forward and slam the body against the wall hard. The person gave a startled yelp and clawed at the hands that were gripping his throat. His heart racing, Elliot fumbled around his attacker for the light switch.

When the light invaded his eyes, he blinked harshly. His arm dropped instantly and he stepped back.

"Christ Sean!" he yelled, struggling to catch his breath. His body trembled in reaction to the intense adrenaline rush, and he had to lean against the wall to keep his legs from giving out. "Fucking **Christ**!"

His brother clutched his neck, breathing hard. "Jesus, Elliot," he said angrily.

A second later, Elliot dove forward and pinned him roughly against the wall again. His panic gave way to rage in an instant. "What the **hell** are you doing in my apartment?" he yelled.

Sean's face twisted into a defensive expression that recognized well. He ducked Elliot's grip and shoved him hard, knocking him backward a few steps.

"Fuck, Elliot!" he yelled. "Will you chill out? You don't have to be so god damned dramatic."

Elliot couldn't stop the astonished look from crossing his face…his brother had broken into his apartment in the middle of the night and snuck into his bedroom- and he was calling him **dramatic**?

"How did you get in here, Sean?" he continued, still yelling. "I swear to God….if you broke my locks, I'm going to-"

"Get over yourself," Sean said in disgust. "I asked the super to give me a key- I left one of my files in your locker before I left and you grabbed it by mistake."

Elliot barked out a disbelieving laugh and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at Sean with an expression that was both defeated and shocked.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" he cried. He laughed shortly again. "I'm dreaming….I know I didn't just hear you say that you came over here because I took one of your files." His brother looked at him blankly, and Elliot threw his head toward the clock. "It's 4:00 in the god damned morning!"

"Who the fuck cares?" Sean yelled. "I just want to get the damn file."

"THEN PICK UP THE PHONE!" Elliot couldn't keep from screaming in rage. He threw his hands up in frustration. "Pick up the phone and call me to let me know I have one of your files, you fucking psycho!"

He was caught off-guard when Sean suddenly charged forward at him. He didn't have time to react before he found himself slammed against the wall, with his brother crushing him with his weight.

"Don't fucking insult me, shit face!" he screamed. He dug a knee into Elliot's abdomen, and he yelled in shocked pain. "Just give me my god damned files!"

Reaching beside him, Elliot swept a hand over the files he had thrown on his dresser. He threw the entire bunch in his brother's face. "Take them," he gasped, groaning out loud when his knee pressed deeper. "Jesus Christ….take all of them."

Sean let up and backed away, glaring at him. Staggering forward, Elliot doubled over as pain shot through his lower abs. The other man got up into his face, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Don't you _ever_ insult me again," he hissed. He reached out and snagged Elliot's face roughly. "You've forgotten who you're talking too, asshole."

Elliot jerked his face away roughly and shoved his brother away. "Get out!" he yelled hysterically. "Give me back my god damned key and get the fuck **out**!"

The sharp, slicing sting that hit his face made him stumble backward in surprise and clutch his right eye. When he could open it, he saw a gold key lying at his feet at the same time that he heard the downstairs door slam.

There was no way Olivia could get back to sleep, no matter how hard she tried. Her gut instinct was to reach for the phone and call Elliot to make sure he was alright. She caught herself halfway through dialing his number.

"What am I doing?" she asked in disbelief, staring at the phone in her hand.

Sighing shakily, she replaced the receiver and flopped back down. She turned violently to the side and tried to relax. Still not comfortable, she sat up again and attempted to punch the pillow into a more favorable shape.

After another minute, she huffed angrily and slid out of bed. It was a useless battle.

The heat was relentless. It actually seemed hotter than the day before. She was dripping with sweat as walked into the squad room at quarter to eight. She put her purse in her locker and said hello to Fin, who was at his desk.

There was a bright yellow Post-It note stuck to her computer monitor. Walking to her desk, she snatched it up. She immediately recognized her partner's neat handwriting:

_Can I use your locker?_

Furrowing her brow in amusement, she scribbled a reply and stuck the note on his computer monitor.

_I charge by the hour!_

Smiling to herself, she shook her head and sat down.

Elliot arrived about twenty minutes later. Olivia raised her head and gave him a sly grin before looking down again. He looked at her in confusion before he saw the note. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he grabbed it.

His face split into a grin and he reached into his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he thumbed through the numerous receipts he had shoved inside. Olivia watched him, chuckling.

Finding nothing, he reached into his other pocket and withdrew his keys. He held them up and looked at her sheepishly. "Can I use collateral?"

She laughed out loud. "You are so pathetic," she gasped.

Elliot laughed as well. "What can I say?" he said, shrugging. "I'm just a lowly civil servant." He dangled the keys in front of her face playfully.

Olivia batted them away. "Stop it," she said, shaking her head in amusement. She gave him a fake evil eye. "I'll put it on your tab for now." Getting up, she went over to her locker and began dialing the combination.

He gave her a lopsided grin as he picked up some files and followed her. "What's wrong with your locker?" she asked, stepping aside as he placed the folders beside her purse.

Elliot looked disgusted. "Nothing besides the fact that it's been _commandeered_," he spat out. Reaching to the locker above him, he wrenched the lock off and flung the door open.

She gaped in shock. It was stuffed to the brim with files, notebooks, and a large messenger bag. "I see what you mean," she said sympathetically.

"Besides," he continued, absently letting his arm drop. "There isn't a chance in hell I'd trust Sean with my stuff, especially when he knows my fucking locker combination." He turned to walk back to his desk.

"Hey, yeah," Olivia said suddenly, following. "How did he know that anyway?"

He threw a hand up in frustration. "I have no clue," he said. "He's always done shit like that- he likes to fuck with my head." He huffed angrily. "Fucking prick."

Olivia waited a full five minutes, listening to Elliot's pen scratching the page, before summoning up the nerve to ask the question that had been on her mind since yesterday.

"What happened between you two?"

Her partner's head shot up, and his intense eyes seemed to drill through her. "What do you mean?" he asked defensively

She shrugged uncomfortably under the smoldering stare. "Nothing," she said. "I don't know…you just didn't act the way I had imagined your family to act."

He tossed his pen down and looked at her in exasperation. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She quickly held up her hands in defense. "I'm just saying that I'm kind of missing the whole 'brotherly love' vibe with you guys….he was looking at you yesterday like he wanted to punch your face in."

Elliot grimaced instinctively and wryly thought about the irony in her statement-if she only knew how many times that had happened in the past. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward and stared at her. She was startled at the dark expression that had crossed his face.

"Listen to me, Olivia," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "You don't know anything about the kind of person my brother is. Anything."

She looked at him in shock, but was spared having to speak by the doors being pushed open loudly.

Sean breezed into the squad room. Olivia watched Elliot's eyes darken before he lowered his head back to his paper. She continued to watch the agent as he sauntered over to Elliot's locker.

_No_, Olivia mentally corrected herself in surprise. Not sauntering…._strutting. _There was really no better word to describe his movement. He picked up an armload of manila folders, strode around Olivia, and proceeded to dump them surreptitiously right on top of the paper Elliot was currently working on.

Elliot startled and dropped his pen. He glared up at his brother. "What the hell?" he asked angrily. He looked through them and saw that they were the ones that he had given Sean that morning.

"You're not going to say thank you?" Sean asked dryly. "It's two words, Elliot….surely you can handle two little words, can't you?"

He looked up, his eyes narrowed. "Sure I can." Olivia saw his face split into a cocky grin as he turned to face Sean. "Fuck. Off," he said in a syrupy voice.

Olivia snorted and quickly tipped her face down toward her papers, covering her mouth and pretending to cough. Elliot looked at her and grinned.

Sean gave him a dirty look, but was spared having to reply by the captain sticking his head out of his office. "Stabler," he called.

"Sir?" they both replied at once.

Elliot glared at his brother. "He's talking to me," he said defensively.

"Uh, actually…" Cragen pointed a finger at Sean. "I was talking to Sean. Sorry."

The look on the agent's face was pure gloating as he sauntered toward the office.

They stepped out a minute later after a brief conversation, and Sean headed for the locker again. "I'm heading back to the hotel," he said to no one in particular as he lifted out the messenger bag. "Chief Hammond is going to hold a conference call at 11:30 and then I have to meet with the fire chief in charge of our little task force." He turned to face the captain. "So….I'll meet up back here at, say….around 3?"

Don nodded. "Sure," he replied. "Then you and Elliot can head over to Staten Island."

That got Elliot's attention. He whipped his chair around fast. "Why?" he asked, looking at Cragen.

"It's so we can…" Sean began to say.

Elliot gave him a fierce glare. "I wasn't asking you," he said icily.

"Answer him, Sean," Don said, leveling a stern gaze at Elliot.

"That's where the New York branch of ATF is located," he said. "Hammond wants us to brief them before we start."

"So why can't you just call them?" Elliot asked crossly.

"That's enough out of you, Elliot," Don cut in, before Sean could say anything. "It's not his decision…it's my decision. You're both going- end of discussion." He glared at him as if daring him to argue.

His eyes narrowed. Olivia shook her head slightly with a meaningful look on her face, clearly advising him to shut up. Deciding it really wasn't worth the effort, he sighed and shook his head in defeat.

Sean slammed the locker shut. "Later," he said as he walked out.

"Can't wait," Elliot muttered under his breath.

Don turned back to face him. "Elliot…" he began sternly.

Elliot knew by the look on his face that he was getting ready to tell him to go into his office and felt the tension bubble in his chest immediately. He had managed to hold on to his tongue yesterday…but if he had to listen to the captain reprimanding him like a naughty first-grader one more time, he was going to lose it in a big way.

He was saved when the doors burst open again. Munch poked his head in, and Cragen suddenly realized that he hadn't even noticed that John hadn't been there.

"I got a call from Warner," he said. "There's another dead prostitute."

Fin and Olivia got up immediately and headed for the doors. Elliot hesitated, turning back toward the captain.

He looked disgusted. "Go," he said shortly, waving him away. He ran to catch up with Olivia.

Three of the six Manhattan Expressway lanes were blocked off, but the uniformed officer directing traffic waved the two sedans through when he saw them. Pulling to a stop on the shoulder, the four detectives saw the crime scene tape at the riverbank off beside the interstate.

They climbed awkwardly down the steep slope of land leading to the road and headed for the group of CSU technicians grouped near the water's edge. Melinda was crouched next to the discolored corpse.

Elliot looked at the body apprehensively before announcing their presence. "Please tell me you found her by the side of the road," he said uneasily.

The medical examiner looked up at them and grimaced. "Sorry," she said grimly. "Fisherman discovered her about an hour ago."

The clothing and personal effects on the body made it obvious that the woman was a hooker, but John went ahead and questioned anyway just to be positive. "You're sure she was a prostitute?"

Warner gave him an odd glance. "Well, I won't lie to you," she said. "I don't know for certain, but…" Reaching down, she peeled away a bit of the soggy scrap of fabric that passed for the woman's skirt and dug into the side pocket. She unearthed a large wad of cash and held it up. "I'm guessing she was. They're all hundreds."

"So, are you thinking dump job, then?" Elliot asked.

Melinda nodded. "There are tire tracks about fifty feet away," she said, gesturing toward the trees beside the small river. "There are also scuffle marks that indicate the body was dragged toward the water."

Olivia's cell phone rang. "Excuse me," she said, turning back toward the road. "Benson."

"Take a look at this," Warner continued, crouching back down.

The three men followed suit. She waved a hand over the woman's throat, indicating the deep purple bruising that stood out starkly on the pale skin.

Elliot exchanged a look with Fin. "Just like the last one," he murmured. Fin nodded slightly.

"Guys," Olivia said urgently, stepping back over to him. "We have to go."

"What's up?" Munch asked, as they stood.

"That was Cragen," she said, looking shocked. "There's a fire at the 3-5 precinct."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry about the delay….for some reason, this chapter took forever. Elliot wasn't very cooperative….I think I rewrote this thing five times. Ugh…be patient, please. There is **so** much up my sleeve for this story…you haven't seen anything yet!

Elliot felt his heart hammering against his ribcage as he zoomed down the highway. He had spent almost a quarter of his career at the 3-5 precinct in Queens, and had many friends there.

"How bad is it?" he asked Olivia, zooming off of the same exit that he took home every night.

"Cap didn't say," she answered. "He had just heard about it on the police scan-"

"Holy _shit_," Elliot breathed, cutting her off. He sat up straighter and leaned forward to peer out the windshield, a horrified expression on his face. She followed his gaze and felt her breath catch.

Flames were leaping off of the top of the building, dancing and licking the wind. The entire top floor was engulfed and fire shot out of the windows.

Tires squealed as the two sedans screeched to a stop. The four detectives hopped out and stood next to the curb, careful not to get close to the building. The wail of sirens was in the distance.

Hearing about the fires was one thing, but seeing it in action was entirely another.

Olivia felt her gut twisting as she watched the flames engulf each floor of the building and continue downward in a ruthless rampage.

Munch felt sick. _Dear Lord…don't let there be anybody inside._ There was no way for anyone to get in that building, and no chance of anyone getting out.

Fin's eyes were stinging from the fumes of the thick black smoke that swirled in the air, and he rubbed them quickly. _Where the hell are the fire trucks?_

Elliot was standing still, wide-eyed. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the swirl of orange licking the air. His entire body was screaming at him to do something to help, but he was frozen.

"Elliot!"

Hearing his name, he whipped around fast. An older man came dashing across the street, and Elliot sighed with relief as he recognized his former captain.

"Tom!" he cried frantically, rushing over to him. "Are you alright? Did everyone get out?"

"Yes," the man said breathlessly. "I just did a final head count. Everyone's alright."

"Thank God," Elliot breathed. The man moved up to stand with the four detectives as they all watched the building in silence.

Two hours later, the four walked back into the 1-6. Hearing them at their desks, Cragen came out of his office.

"Was there anyone hurt?" he asked in concern.

Olivia shook her head wearily. "Everyone made it out before the place went up," she said. "The building's toast. No way is it going to be salvageable."

"Well, the important thing is that everyone is alright," Cragen said, seeing the somber looks on their faces. "That's all that matters."

No one responded.

The captain sighed. "Alright," he said finally. "Not to sound unsympathetic, but we've still got a job to do. So let's concentrate on what we have. What's the news on this morning's victim?"

He waited for the blank expressions to clear, knowing that the four of them were still in a bit of a daze. Munch snapped out of it first, coming back to focus.

"Warner said the body was found this morning in the East River," he said. "There were signs of tire tracks and scuff marks on the river bank…she thinks someone killed and then dumped her."

Elliot shook his head. "She had the same marks on her neck as the last one," he said gruffly. "Looks like she was choked."

The door opened and Sean came in. "Hey," he greeted. "I heard about the fire…is everyone alright?"

"Everyone is fine," Don assured.

"Good," he said with conviction. "Listen, I just spoke with Chief Pyatt in Staten Island…he really needs us to get down there as soon as possible." He looked at his brother expectantly.

Elliot had forgotten about that after all that had happened that morning. He was about to protest when he caught the sharp look that Cragen sent him, and sighed instead. He really didn't have the energy to argue right now.

"The rest of you," Cragen directed to the others. "start working on finding out the identity of our latest victim."

"Let's go," Sean said abruptly. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get back." He walked out the door.

Olivia exchanged a glance with her partner before heading off to the file cabinet. He just shook his head in disgust and followed after his brother.

Silence blanketed the inside of Sean's blue Toyota Tundra. Elliot kept his gaze out the window and Sean kept his at the road in front of him. Neither said a word.

"What's your problem?"

Elliot jumped when his brother spoke and broke the silence. He turned his head slightly. "I'm not the one with the problem," he muttered, keeping his gaze on the window.

"Unbelievable," Sean said in amazement. Elliot didn't acknowledge him. He shook his head. "You're still bitching about what happened with the department, aren't you?"

That triggered a reaction. Elliot swung his head around, his eyes glittering dangerously.

Sean let out a dry laugh. "Jesus, Elliot," he said snidely. "It was four fucking years ago…get the hell over it."

Elliot was clenching his teeth so hard that he was surprised they didn't crack. "You son of a-" he growled. He cut himself off before he could complete the sentence, but Sean caught it anyway. He smirked.

"Hey, genius….you're my brother," he said. "If I'm a son of a bitch, so are you."

"You lied, Sean!" Elliot cried, ignoring him. "I put my ass on the line for you and you lied straight to my face…you almost got me fired! How the hell could you do that?"

"Survival of the fittest, little brother," Sean said curtly. "Obviously, you're not as good a cop as you like to think you are."

Elliot turned angrily back toward the window and didn't say another word.

Melinda was finishing the embalming of the body when Olivia and Munch came into the lab.

"Be with you in one second, guys," she said, keeping her attention on her task.

"Take your time," Olivia said, teasingly. "We're just here to enjoy the refrigerator." She walked over to stand next to the huge air-conditioning vent that was busily blasting out cold air and turned so that it would hit the back of her neck. She sighed in relief.

Warner smirked. The morgue was required by law to be thirty degrees below room temperature so that the bodies could stay preserved. It sucked in the winter time…but it was a real perk on days like today.

Munch picked up the cadaver lying on the small table next to the slab she was working on. He eyed the pointed end and turned a suspicious stare on Melinda. "Is that a body or a voodoo doll?" he asked.

She finished sealing the filmy coating on the corpse and turned around, snapping her gloves off. "Why?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Are you scared?"

"Ha, ha," he said wryly.

She smirked again as she snatched the tool from his hand and carried it over to the sterilizing basin.

"You didn't happen to find a driver's license on her, did you?" Olivia asked wryly.

"If it was only that easy, right?" Melinda cracked.

Olivia grinned and shrugged. "I can dream," she said.

"No," Warner said, turning toward her. "But I can tell you that this was definitely the work of the same guy." She walked back over to the slab.

That perked John's interest. "How do you know that?" he questioned.

"I found the same lighter fluid on her," she said. "From a blow torch. Only… not on her hands."

Munch looked at her, looking suddenly nervous. "It wasn't…." He trailed off, looking disgusted.

Melinda suddenly remembered that the girl had been a prostitute, and was quick to fill in the gaps of what he was thinking.

"No," she said quickly. "Nothing there, thank God. It was on her lips."

Olivia's eyebrows shot up as she walked over to where the two of them were standing. "On her lips?" She shot a shocked look at the medical examiner.

Melinda floated a hand over the mouth of the corpse, being careful not to touch it. "It's all over them," she said. "Here, see for yourself."

Reaching behind her, she flipped a light switch and plunged the room into darkness. Coming around John, she fumbled under the slab and pushed the button for the florescent lights. Blue light lit up the area around the metal table, making the detectives blink.

When she was able to focus, Olivia saw the stains right away. They stood out starkly, thanks to the embalming fluids. Warner hadn't been exaggerating- the entire mouth was covered.

Melinda reached over to turn the lights back on. She looked seriously at the two as they blinked again. Munch suddenly noticed that she was looking at them hesitantly, as if debating whether or not to say anything.

"What?" he asked.

She sighed in trepidation. "The pattern of the fluid is irregular," she said grimly. "I went further to see if I had missed anything…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Olivia asked.

"Warner was silent for a minute before finally answering. "It's all over the inside of her mouth," she said gravely. "Back of her throat, too."

She looked grimly at them as they connected the dots.

"My God," Olivia said, horrified. She stared at the body, feeling nauseous. "He put the blow torch in her mouth."

Sean pulled into the parking lot of the Federal Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms an hour later. Elliot had barely taken off his seat belt before his brother was striding toward the entrance. He had to run to keep up, but slowed once he was about three steps behind him so that they wouldn't be walking beside each other.

"Agent Stabler."

He was surprised to hear someone call Sean's name as they stepped inside. Looking to the left, Elliot saw a man in a dark blue suit walking toward them, obviously waiting for them.

"I'm Agent Sam Kinnick," he said, holding out his hand. "New York Bureau."

Sean gave it a quick pump. "Sean Stabler," he replied. "New Jersey."

Nodding, Kinnick looked curiously at Elliot. Sean jerked a head in his direction. "My brother, Elliot," he said curtly. He didn't elaborate further.

Shooting him a disgusted glare, Elliot stepped around him and offered his hand to the agent. "Elliot Stabler," he offered. "I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit in Manhattan."

"Sam Kinnick," he said again, shaking his hand.

"Good to meet you," Elliot said, winking pleasantly.

"Special Victims, huh?" Kinnick said, withdrawing his hand. He looked at him admirably. "That's some tough shit, isn't it?"

"It can be," he agreed, nodding. "It's never dull, that's for sure."

Kinnick smiled. "I'll bet."

Already liking the man, Elliot began to say something else, but Sean broke in before he could.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?"

The other agent blinked in surprise, his gaze faltering from Elliot to Sean. "Of course," he said, after a minute. He glanced at them both in turn quickly and gestured. "Follow me."

Sean began walking briskly in the direction he had pointed, leaving the agent and Elliot a step behind.

Kinnick looked to Elliot in question. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes in disgust. They headed that way as well.

"Well, we've got some interesting news," Munch announced, walking into the squad room behind Olivia.

Fin stood up from his desk. "Me, too," he said.

"You go first," Olivia said, cutting Munch's scoff of protest.

"I talked to the fire chief from this morning," he said. "They were wrong when they said everyone got out alive."

She looked at him in alarm. "Who didn't?" Munch looked interested now as well.

"Two janitors were found in a fourth floor maintenance closet," he said grimly. "Chicken wire was wrapped on the outside door handles."

She cringed. "That's horrible," she said softly. Munch nodded in somber agreement.

A minute of silence fell. "So what did you find?" Fin asked finally.

When Olivia didn't reply, John stepped in. "Warner found the same type of lighter fluid on our vic from this morning," he said. "Blow torch….it was in her mouth."

His partner pulled a horrified face. "Jesus," he murmured. "What a psycho."

Cragen had been listening quietly, and announced his presence then. "I just got off the phone with Elliot," he said. "They're wrapping up down there now." He looked at the three of them somberly. "There's nothing else we can do now. Go home…we'll regroup tomorrow."

The mood had darkened considerably for the trio, and they just nodded wearily.

The night was cool and clear, a refreshing change from the sticky heat of the afternoon. Elliot rolled the passenger window down as the Tundra hit the interstate back towards Manhattan and sighed blissfully at the rush of cold wind that hit his face.

After thirty minutes, Elliot was about to scream. The silence was driving him crazy. He turned toward Sean and ventured at conversation. "So, what did you think about their plan?" he asked, referring to the plans that the ATF had debriefed them on during the three-hour long meeting. "I'm impressed."

There was no response from Sean, not even a grunt.

Elliot rolled his eyes. "What…you're not going to talk to me now?"

Sean's only reply was to reach over and turn the radio on. He cranked up the volume, making his intentions clear to Elliot.

He scoffed. "Fine," he said. "Screw you." He turned and sighed, resigning to staring at the passing woods.

A vibrating in his pocket startled him. He reached down and pulled out his cell phone, checking the caller ID.

"Hey, Liv," he greeted. He reached over and turned down the radio.

"Hey," she said. "How-?"

Her next words were suddenly drowned out by the radio again. Shooting an angry glance at his brother, Elliot adjusted the volume again. Sean immediately turned it back.

"Hang on, Liv," he said quickly, pulling the phone away from his ear. He whipped his head toward Sean. "I can't hear, asshole."

"Cry about it," Sean cracked, and began beating the steering wheel in time to the music.

Elliot rolled up his window and turned the volume on his phone up. "Hey, sorry," he said into the phone.

"How was the meeting?" Olivia asked.

"Interesting," her partner replied. "They've got a hell of a task force in that place...the plans they gave us seem foolproof."

"Sweet," she said. "So, where are you?"

He glanced at the road sign as they flew past it. "About an hour from Long Island," he said. "I'd say about two hours before we get to the station."

"Don't bother," she said. "Cap sent us home for the night…said to rest up and start fresh tomorrow."

"I hear that," Elliot said wryly. His stomach growled suddenly, and he noted the time. 9:30. "Hey, have you eaten yet? I'm starving."

"Ooh….yeah," Olivia said regretfully. "Sorry…I grabbed some Chinese on my way home." She heard him sigh in obvious unhappiness. "But…hey, I've got plenty here. You're welcome to come by."

"Nah, that's ok," he declined, trying to hide his disappointment. "It'll be almost midnight before I get my car…I'll just see you in the morning. Thanks anyway."

She felt a wave of sympathy at how pathetic he sounded. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll bring the rest in tomorrow and we'll do lunch."

"Hey, cool!" he said enthusiastically. "Sounds good."

She smiled at the instant happiness she heard in his voice. "It's a plan, then," she said.

"It's a plan," he echoed, smiling. He paused and continued in a mock threatening tone, "You better have duck sauce."

"I do," she said. "Well…" She trailed off, her tone teasing. "At least, I _did_."

She laughed at his angry scoff.

"Oh, it's on now," he said, continuing to play along. "You don't mess with my duck sauce, woman."

"Oh, please," she said, laughing. "Bring it…I'll whip you're butt from here to Christmas."

"We'll see," Elliot chuckled. He shook his head. "Goodnight, Liv."

"Night," she said. "Sweet dreams."

She shook her head, laughing, and hung up.

_Olivia walked into the squad room and was surprised to find that it was dark._

"_Hello?" she called in confusion. "Guys?"_

_Scrunching her brow, she reached along the wall until her hand hit the light switch. Nothing happened, despite flipping it a few times._

"_Guys?" she said again, her tone guarded. She drew her gun on instinct and looked around warily as she slowly came into the room._

_A bone-chilling scream suddenly erupted behind her, making her jump. Whipping around, she aimed her gun. _

"_Who's there?" she said, asserting authority in her voice. "Come out, now!"_

"_Olivia!"_

_She recognized her partner's voice. "Elliot?" she asked in surprise. She looked around. "Where are you?"_

_He began screaming wildly, and she turned in circles desperately, trying to locate him in the darkness. "Elliot, where are you?" she cried frantically. "Where are you? Where are you?"_

"_Help me!" he begged hysterically. "God, Olivia…PLEASE help me!"_

_There was a sudden whoosh, and suddenly the room lit up. Olivia had to cover her eyes against the harsh light. Peeking out from under one arm, she suddenly saw a figure on the ground. It was Elliot._

_Her eyes widened when she saw the figure standing over him with a blow torch. She screamed when the fire began shooting out over her partner._

_Elliot was on his knees and attempting to crawl away from the flames as they engulfed his entire lower body._

"_Olivia!" he shrieked. The terror in his voice made her skin crawl. "OLIVIA!"_

"ELLIOT!"

Screaming, Olivia bolted upright. Looking around in a panic, she recognized the surroundings of her bedroom. Her chest heaved, and she began to sob while looking blearily at the bedside alarm clock. It was 3:30 in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

She threw herself over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the phone with a shaking hand. Her fingers trembled as she dialed Elliot's number.

One ring. Two rings. Tears were seeping out of her eyes as she remembered the horrible images of the dream. She shuddered. Three rings. Four rings.

Why wasn't he answering? Panic lodged in her chest, making her fight to breathe. It was only a dream….he was fine…. Olivia let out a sob at the fifth ring. It had only been a dream…._right_?

The loud noise penetrated Elliot's deep sleep, making him jump and let out a strangled gasp. His heart hammered and he lay still in disorientation. He recognized the shrill ring of the phone next to him and clumsily reached for it.

Olivia was sobbing openly now, and was startled when she heard a click. When she heard the husky voice on the other end, she let out a huge breath.

"Hello?" Elliot croaked, struggling to focus. He was halfway back to dreamland. Feeling his head drooping back toward the pillow, he shook himself. "Hello?" he said, firmer this time.

She hung up quickly without speaking, shaking in relief. Sliding back under the covers, she lay down flat and waited for her heart to slow down. It would be a long time before she could sleep again.

The sharp click made Elliot groan angrily. He tossed the phone on the table without bothering to hang it back up and sank back down under the warm blanket. He snuggled his face back into his pillow and was asleep within seconds.

Despite having heard his voice on the phone, Olivia's stomach was knotted as she drove to work. As she stepped out of the elevator with the bag full of Chinese that she had promised, she was shaking.

When she stepped around the corner, she could see inside the glass squad room doors and got a full view of Elliot, sitting at his desk. He was perfectly fine.

The sudden rush of relief made her lightheaded as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She had to stop for a minute and grip the wall to stabilize herself. As her heart rate slowed, she laughed at her own absurdity.

Of course he was alright…why wouldn't he be? Her crazy dreams were starting to make her paranoid. Elliot would probably make her see a shrink if he knew what she was thinking. Shaking her head, she strode towards the office.

Elliot glanced up when the doors opened, and smiled when he saw Olivia.

"Hey," he greeted.

She smiled pleasantly. "Hey," she replied. She came around to his side of the desk and plopped the white plastic bag she was carrying on his desk before going to her locker.

He rooted through it, inspecting the contents. "Chicken and cashews…yum," he commented, continuing to poke through the numerous boxes. "Shrimp fried rice….double yum. Egg drop soup…"

She heard the change in his voice and turned around, grinning. He hated egg drop soup.

He wrinkled his nose and sniffed indignantly. "You can have that."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically.

He laughed. Rolling her eyes, Olivia grabbed the bag and headed for the refrigerator.

"Wait, hold it," Elliot said, hastily scribbling something on a piece of paper. He ripped a piece of scotch tape off of the dispenser on her side of the desk and came over to her.

She looked at him in confusion. He taped the piece of paper to the bag. "There," he said triumphantly. "Have to protect the valuables."

Looking suspiciously at him, she peered down at the piece of paper.

**Property of Olivia and Elliot- Touch this bag and you will die**

She shook her head and laughed before setting the bag in the refrigerator. Elliot reached around her and made a show of pushing it to the very back, moving cans and jars around to hide it from view.

"I think it's safe," she said in amusement, watching him rearrange the contents again.

He stepped back and surveyed his work, nodding in approval.

There were no cases waiting that morning, so they took advantage of the temporary lull and attempted to tackle the seemingly never ending paperwork stack.

Olivia couldn't hold back her giggles as she concentrated on her report. Elliot's eyes were following every person who went toward the refrigerator, watching like a hawk. He had been on the same page for five minutes and had yet to make a pen mark.

Cragen came out of his office. "Elliot," he said, catching his eye. "Can you bring us up to speed on the information you got from ATF?"

"Sure," he said, putting his pen down. He reached for the top desk drawer, but suddenly stopped.

"Wait," he said, remembering. "No…Sean has the notes from the meeting on his palm pilot." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Hey, where is he, anyway?"

Don shrugged. "He hasn't come in since I've been here," he said. "Call him; find out what his plans are for today."

It wasn't spoken like a request, and Elliot didn't take it as one. He grabbed the Post-It note that had his brother's hotel number on it and picked up the phone.

"Sean Stabler, please," he said into the receiver. A minute passed. "Hey," he said, having obviously gotten connected. "Where are you?"

He listened a minute. "Well, we need the notes from yesterday's meeting so we can get a jump start on this…no, I figured yours would be enough…." He rolled his eyes, his tone annoyed.

"Why?" he asked. "I have…" He sighed irritably after a minute and curtly said, "Hang on."

He held the phone out. "He wants to talk to you," he said to Cragen in a no-nonsense voice.

Don looked confused as he took the receiver from Elliot. "Hello," he said. He listened for a minute. "Alright….ok, sure….uh-huh….well, can you get them to Elliot sometime before then? We need to go over…..yeah….sure. Thanks." He handed the receiver back and nodded at Elliot to hang it up.

They all looked at the captain expectantly. "He says Chief Hammond called an emergency meeting this morning in Jersey," he reported. "He's headed there now, but says he can drop the notes at your apartment in about twenty minutes before he leaves."

Elliot sighed inwardly. He was really not looking forward to having to drive all the way back to Queens after having just left.

The captain had other ideas, however. "You can head there on your lunch break," he told Elliot. "Right now, I want you two to go talk to CSU…see what they have on the scene from yesterday."

He turned to Munch and Fin. "You guys dig up any information you can find on homicides involving prostitutes in the last two years…maybe we'll get lucky and find a connection somewhere."

They nodded. "Keep me posted," Don said, and headed back to his office.

"Oh, goody," John mumbled sarcastically, once the captain was out of earshot. "Just what I love to do….a paper trail."

Elliot looked at Olivia glumly as they stood up. "Looks like Chinese is out," he said bitterly. "Again."

She smiled sympathetically at him as they headed for the doors.

As they drove, Olivia filled her partner in on the findings from the morgue the day before. "…and when we looked inside, there was lighter fluid inside her mouth," she finished.

Elliot almost slammed on the brakes. "What?" he screeched, jerking his head toward her. "You're not serious."

She grimaced. "Yeah," she said. "That was my reaction, too."

He blew out a breath slowly. "Man," he said quietly. "I hope we get a break soon…there's no telling how far this could go."

The meeting with the CSU technicians ended up to be fruitless. The team had no further leads besides the ones that the detectives already knew about. They promised to call the minute anything new developed.

Olivia sighed as they walked back out into the bright sunshine, instantly shivering at the contrast of the blazing heat to the frigid air-conditioned building. "I hate days like this," she grumbled as they walked down the front steps. "It makes me feel so useless."

Elliot nodded his agreement. "I hear you," he said. He checked his watch as they approached the car. "Hey, you mind if we swing by my place to get those notes?" he asked. "Seeing as we're already out anyway…we can get started on the case faster."

She shrugged. "Yeah, why not?" she said. "I'll call captain and let him know."

She pulled out her cell phone as they pulled back onto the street. "Hey…wait a minute," she said after a minute, pausing before pressing the first digit. Turning in her seat, she looked at Elliot accusingly. "You just want to go there now so you can eat that Chinese food at lunchtime, don't you?"

He had never been able to pull off an innocent look when he was called on the carpet, and she knew it. But he tried anyway, knowing that it would fall flat even as he did it.

Cracking under her look, Elliot burst out laughing. Olivia tried to remain stern, but couldn't keep it up….her partner had the most contagious laugh she had ever heard. Soon she was giggling.

"You dirty liar," she gasped out. "You couldn't give a shit about the case…all you're thinking about is your damn stomach."

He shrugged, his shoulders shaking from laughing so hard. "Give me a break," he said. "I've been craving that stuff since you called me last night…don't torture me."

She shook her head and grinned, but his words had reminded her suddenly of the dream she'd had that morning. Goosebumps rose instantly on her skin.

They arrived at the complex fifteen minutes later. Olivia followed him inside as went to the front desk to get his mailbox key. The small box was stuffed.

"Geez," she commented, watching him attempt to dig out all of the papers and envelopes. "When is the last time you checked your mail?"

He gave her a lopsided smirk, keeping his attention on the pile in his arms so that it wouldn't go sliding to the floor. "So it's been a while," he said defensively. "It's not like I don't have a life, you know…I am an eligible bachelor."

She laughed. "Right," she said. "I'm sure you've got women lined up around the block for you every night." Reaching over, she grabbed a portion of the stack he was juggling before it could fall.

He smiled gratefully at her, but kept up the ribbing. "Oh, yeah," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "A pity line, maybe." He gestured with his shoulder for her to follow him. "Come on…let me drop this upstairs."

She followed after him dutifully, but her thoughts were on his words. He hadn't sounded like he was kidding, and she was surprised. It had been a year since he and Kathy had officially divorced, but he had made no effort to get back into the dating scene, at least from what she saw.

She never pushed him about it. Even she knew that one couldn't just bounce back after having a twenty-year commitment suddenly vanish. It surprised her, though, to think that he might believe he wasn't good enough for another woman.

For one thing, he was incredibly attractive. He was muscular and in terrific shape, and his smile could make a person melt in a two seconds. His face was still youthful and full of boyish charm, and his eyes were breathtaking. It was hard to miss the looks of envy on woman's faces whenever they were together on the job, and a small part of her secretly enjoyed making them think he was hers.

Her face flushed at the thoughts, but what could she do? Despite being his best friend, she was still a woman and could appreciate a handsome man as much as any female.

But what made him so wonderful, at least to her, had nothing to do with his physical appearance. It was his natural charm that was most appealing. He was one of the few men she had ever known who was a true gentleman and still did things like open doors and offer his coat to a woman regardless of whether she was a stranger or an acquaintance. There was a sweet side of him that no one in the office had the opportunity to see, but she had gotten a glimpse and knew right then and there that he was one of a kind.

Elliot didn't know how wrong he was. Any woman who managed to snag him would be the luckiest woman in the world….she couldn't believe that Kathy had let him get away.

"Liv?"

She was startled to find herself inside his apartment. She had been completely zoned out. Snapping out of it, she shook herself quickly. Elliot was looking at her in amusement. "You still with me?" he joked.

"Yeah," she said quickly. She ducked her face to hide her blush and playfully shoved his arm. "Come on, hurry up."

"Patience, patience," he chided, picking Sean's notes from the stack of mail and pushing the rest aside. He folded them and put them in his pocket. "Alright, let's go."

She waited for him to lock the door, and they headed down the hall together.

He had just pushed the door open when a loud shrieking noise made him jump. Olivia looked around in surprise. "What is that?" she asked frantically.

His stomach dropped to the floor, and he felt blood rush to his face as he looked at her. Her eyes widened as she caught on, and he knew she was thinking exactly the same thing he was.

"It's the fire alarm."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The shrill, annoying shriek alerted the other residents. Doors began flying open and people came scrambling down the hall toward them. Elliot looked around and made a quick decision.

"Come on, Liv," he said urgently.

She felt herself being propelled down the hallway before she could react. He gripped her arm and led her in the opposite direction, back toward his apartment. Continuing past it, he kept going and took a left at the end of the hall.

"There's stairs leading to the laundry room in the basement," he explained as he opened the door. "The fire escape stairs are going to be mobbed."

Olivia followed him down four flights of stairs, and outside once they reached the basement floor.

A massive cluster of people had formed in the parking lot when they cleared the building. The two of them went to join them, and upon doing so, Olivia suddenly lost track of Elliot.

She looked around, bewildered. He had been standing right next to her not two seconds ago. Moving off to the side, she got a little ways away from the crowd, and was able to spot him immediately. He had come around to the side of the building furthest from the parking lot and was standing on top of the small grassy hill that overlooked the side windows.

Quickly going to him, she was surprised to see the horrified look on his face. When she followed his gaze, she suddenly saw three fire trucks parked at the back of the building, with hoses out. Firefighters were scrambling to position them.

Elliot felt nauseous. This was _real._ The building was actually on fire.

The door to the captain's office came flying open. Munch looked up from the stack of papers he was busily weeding through.

"Captain," he said. "I've got two-"

"Never mind that," Cragen said quickly. He hurried over to the small TV mounted next to the refrigerator and flipped the channel. Fin and Munch looked at each other in confusion and got up.

The image of a male reporter filled the screen. "Everyone shut up!" he ordered, and turned the volume up. The room became instantly silent, and the other detectives got up to huddle around them.

"…and no word on any other victims at the moment," the man was saying. "For anyone just joining us, we are on the scene at the Greenbrier Estates apartment complex in Queens, where a fire of unknown origin has broken out. Firefighters are working to get the blaze under control, but we have been notified that it is now officially contained at the sixth story and has not spread."

Don looked at Munch and Fin anxiously. "That's Elliot's apartment," he said. "He and Olivia went there a little over an hour ago to pick up his notes."

"Ok…let's not panic," John said quickly. "There's a chance that they left before this happened and are on their way back here."

"I can't get a hold of Elliot," Don continued, striding over to Fin's desk. "I'm going to try Olivia."

Fin's cell phone rang as he was dialing. "Tutuola," he answered. After listening a minute, he suddenly called out, "Captain, it's Olivia."

Cragen dropped the phone at once. "Liv, what-?" Fin began, but the captain snatched the phone from his hand mid-sentence.

"Olivia, are you guys alright?" he asked immediately. They saw his face droop considerably in relief, so obviously the answer was affirmative. "Yeah….ok."

She turned away from watching the firefighters and covered the phone with her hand, trying to hear what the captain was saying over the roar of the water hoses.

"We're fine, sir," she said loudly, walking a few feet away. It became considerably easier to hear. "Yes, Elliot's here, he's with me….no, it was probably on a higher floor." She listened for a minute. "Probably…yeah. Ok, I'll tell him…will do. See you in a bit."

She hung up and walked back over to her partner. Elliot tore his gaze away from the firefighters and looked at her.

"What did he want?" he asked.

"He says he tried calling you," she replied.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Right away, he saw two new messages flashing. "It must be on silent," he said absently, before letting his eyes wander back to the scene in front of them.

"He says you can stay here until things are under control," she continued. "But I need to get back to the station…I wanted to check with you first, though, to make sure you-"

She trailed off as she realized that he wasn't even paying attention.

"Hey," she said, firmly, gripping his arm. Startled, his eyes shot to hers, and she saw how upset he was, even though he was trying not to show it. She looked at him in concern, her hand still clasping his forearm. "You want me to stay here for a while? I can call him back."

Her words registered in his daze. "No, no," he stammered, trying to focus. He turned toward her. "It's fine. You go ahead."

Clearly not agreeing with him, Olivia nevertheless released his arm. "Alright," she said hesitantly. "I'll call you when I get to the station, ok?" She looked at him worriedly. He didn't reply. "Elliot?"

Once again, he appeared startled as he looked at her.

"Ok?" she repeated, eying him hesitantly.

"Sure, ok," he said absently. Then he turned back and continued staring silently.

Olivia walked into the squad room fifteen minutes later and poked her head in Cragen's office to let him know she had arrived.

She was surprised to see Sean sitting at Elliot's desk when she came out.

"What are you doing?" she asked cautiously.

He looked at her blankly. "What?" he asked. "Can't a guy sit down?"

She eyed him for a minute, but before she could say anything the captain came in. "Olivia, you have those notes?"

Still eyeing him, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the folded notes that Elliot had given her before she left. She handed them to Cragen.

He looked them over for a minute and handed them to Sean. "Ok," he said, addressing everyone. "Sean, why don't you go ahead and brief us, since you're here anyway?"

Sean nodded. "Sure," he said coolly. He looked at the three detectives. "The agency here has been doing a great job keeping track of our arsonist….they knew things that Chief Hammond wasn't even aware of."

"Such as?" Cragen asked.

"Like…" He thought a minute. "The guy drives a red Ford Focus when he's looking for prostitutes, with Florida tags." He looked to Don with raised eyebrows, silently asking if he approved.

"Ok," Don said, after a minute. He went to the chalkboard and wrote this information down. "Right now, I'll take what I can get…potential vehicle description. What else?"

Sean looked down at his notes. "They suggested spreading out small surveillance teams around the area instead of using a few large ones….we can cover more ground that way. Also, possibly recruiting a few working girls to be moles for us."

"Now, that's not a bad idea," Fin spoke up. "We could get more to nail him on and he won't get suspicious."

They were startled to hear Elliot's voice then. "I disagree," he said, walking in. He came over to where they were huddled around the desks. He looked at Sean suspiciously for a minute when he saw him at his desk, but didn't comment. "He made the last cop undercover as a prostitute….he'll be more suspicious of everyone now."

"What are you doing here?" Cragen asked. "I told you to stay until things were straightened out at your place."

"They already were," he answered. "It wasn't as big as it looked…turned out to be a kitchen accident on the fifth floor. Everyone was cleared to return inside. "

Olivia looked relieved. "So, no chance of this being the work of our guy, then?"

Elliot shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Unfortunately, this time it was just plain bad luck." He was quick to turn the conversation back to the present problem. "But, really…I think that it would be too much of a risk to endanger civilians for this."

"Why didn't you say something at the meeting then?" Sean asked incredulously.

"It didn't seem like my place," he answered. "You guys know more about this stuff than I do."

"Ok," Don interrupted. "We'll just hold off on that idea for a minute. Did they mention anything about contacting us? So far, I haven't heard a word from anyone about setting this thing up."

"I'm just waiting for Chief Hammond to confirm the plans," Sean said. "He should be calling tonight. As soon as I hear from him, I'll let you guys know."

The captain nodded. "Well, let's hope for our sakes that he calls soon," he said wryly. "We're still in the dark, and this guy is in our back yard."

A beeper went off. Sean reached inside his pocket. "Speak of the devil," he said, looking at the number. "Captain, can I use your office?"

"Of course," he said, gesturing.

Sean got up and went inside the office, closing the door behind him.

The captain checked his watch. "Tell you what," he said. "It's quarter to five…you guys go take an hour for dinner and we'll get back to this when Sean is finished."

Elliot's eyes lit up, and he met Olivia's gaze. He smiled gleefully, and she giggled.

Ten minutes later, the two of them were sitting on the roof with the bag of re-heated Chinese food between them. It was a beautifully clear night, and there was a cool breeze blowing.

Once they had both taken their share, Elliot began wolfing down the food like he hadn't eaten in a week.

Olivia looked at him in amusement. "Easy, tiger," she said. "It's not going to run away, you know."

"I'm starving," he said, with his mouth full. She shot him a disgusted look. He smiled goofily and opened his mouth wide to give her a view of his half-chewed fried rice.

"Gross," she said, slapping him. Her eyes twinkled with laughter, though.

She dipped a spoon in the container of egg drop soup and swung it in front of him in an exaggerated fashion. "Yummm," she teased. "Sure you don't want some?" She waved it in front of his nose.

"Sick!" he cried, and slapped at it instinctively.

She wasn't expecting it, and ended up with a lapful of gooey yellow soup. His eyes widened in horror immediately and her head shot up to look at him in shock. They stared at each other for a minute before he started cracking up.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, trying to stifle his laughter. He reached for a napkin, but ended up dropping it when he looked at her expression and started laughing harder.

Olivia snatched the napkin and indignantly wiped up the mess from her pants. She tried to appear mad, and realized she had succeeded when she looked at Elliot again. His face flooded with guilt. He looked at her pathetically, and she ended up letting out a snort before cracking up herself.

"Peace offering," he said, once she was cleaned up. He held a fortune cookie out to her, and she accepted it. Breaking the cookie in half, she pulled out the slip of paper and laughed when she read it.

"What?" he asked, in the middle of breaking his own cookie.

" 'You will invest in a new wardrobe'," she read.

His mouth dropped open as he laughed. "You're lying," he said, grabbing the hand that held the paper and trying to pry it from her. "It doesn't say that!"

"Yes, it does!" she cried, letting him read it.

"Damn," he said in surprise. "That's a little scary."

"What does yours say?" she asked.

He pulled out the slip of paper. " 'Beware of a female companion'," he said. At her defensive scoff, he grinned. "Just kidding." He brought the paper up to his face. His smile vanished.

"What?" she asked.

His eyes were narrowed. " 'An unplanned visitor will bring much strife'." He scoffed in disgust and hurled the small slip of paper away. "Tell me about it."

Elliot fell silent. Olivia looked at him cautiously. Even if he hadn't said it outright, she could tell that his brother was a sore subject.

"You said the other day that I don't know what kind of person Sean really is," she said carefully. He looked at her sharply. "What happened?"

He shook his head and sighed. "We were close growing up," he said sullenly. "I worshipped Sean. He taught me how to drive, how to play football…he was the one who introduced me to Kathy."

Biting his lip, he continued. "He always said he would be a cop like Dad, and went to the academy when I started high school…so of course, when I graduated, the first thing I did was apply too. Sean was already a sergeant by then…he went up the ranks almost as soon as he joined the force. He was that good."

She noticed his eyes darken. "He had experimented with drugs a little in high school, but it was never anything serious…Dad would have killed him. I thought he'd stopped once he joined the force. When I became a beat cop, I found out that he hadn't…he had been doing them the entire time he was in the academy. The only reason he graduated was because my dad pulled some strings with the commissioner….he had to promise he would never touch them again, or he would be kicked out of the department."

Elliot sighed. "Time passed, and he was clean. I mean squeaky clean…not even a traffic ticket on his record. And then, here I come into the department with like five speeding violations and a reckless driving citation."

He caught the sharp look she threw at him and flung his hands up innocently. "Hey, I was 21," he said. "Give me a break."

She smiled. "Anyway," he continued, fixing her with a mock glare. "That's not the point."

"Of course," she teased. He glared at her again, and she chuckled. "Sorry," she said. "Go on."

"So, things went great for a while….a long while actually. Right around the time I moved to Special Victims, Sean got offered a job in Georgia. We lost touch for a while, but I talked to him on holidays and stuff." His face hardened. "And then, Dad died."

He went silent, and she knew that the wound was still raw. She remembered that day as clearly as she did when her own mother died. It was then that she realized that she had an easier time being in pain herself than seeing her best friend hurting. It about killed her.

"When I called him, he told me he wasn't coming to the funeral," he said after a minute. "I asked him why, and he hung up on me. I got so pissed that I called his boss…that's when I found out that Sean had been fired. He had marijuana in the trunk of his _squad car._" Elliot shook his head, clearly disgusted.

"That night, I get woken up at three in the morning by someone at my door. There's Sean, looking like hell, and he says he's being framed by one of his ex-academy buddies. At first I didn't believe him…but he promised me that he had been clean since he had graduated the academy. So I go down to his station and go off on his captain….I swear to God, Olivia, I thought I was going to get my ass kicked by his squad mates."

The memory still made him so mad…he felt his hands clenching into fists. "His captain said I had just blown my chances of ever working with the NYPD again, and said he was going to call Cragen. I tell him to fuck off and walk out to find Sean."

Olivia was surprised to see his fists trembling slightly. His teeth were clenched, and he looked so mad that she thought she heard him growling. "I go into the bathroom, and he's standing there snorting cocaine with two of his loser academy dropout friends." His tone conveyed the disbelief that he still felt. "I wanted to scream at him, hit him. All I could do was stand there. I was so shocked I couldn't even think straight…I had truly believed him when he said he was clean."

He dropped his head into his hands with a bitter laugh. "Of course, Cragen calls me about two seconds later…I'd never heard him so pissed before or since. He suspended me for two months, and told me he would be looking for someone to take my place."

Olivia was shocked. She had never known about that. "Luckily, I was forced to make a formal statement about what I saw to IAB, so Cragen found out what happened. Sean quit the police department and applied for a spot at ATF," he said. They hired him only after making him sign a contract saying he would attend rehab, and was promised he would be fired immediately if he broke it."

The pain was evident in his voice, and it made her breath catch when he spoke again. "He called me the day he got to Jersey," he said softly. "Told me that I was a traitor and that as far as he was concerned, I might as well have been dead."

His words dried up, and he lapsed into silence. Olivia was silent as well, trying to make sense of what she had just heard.

Sighing suddenly, Elliot got to his feet. "We better get back," he said abruptly. He gathered up the empty cartons.

Olivia got up as well and silently began helping him. Their hands met when she reached to take the plates from him, and she held the contact. "I'm sorry, Elliot," she said quietly.

Anguished blue eyes met hers. "Me, too," he said. His smile was sad.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Everyone was reassembled in the squad room five minutes later. Cragen gestured to Sean, and he nodded, going to stand in front of the chalkboard.

"Chief Hammond has given us the official go-ahead," he confirmed. "So, for now, I say we should stick with Captain Cragen's original plan of surveillance." He looked back at Don with raised eyebrows and waited.

Cragen nodded, a little surprised. "That works for me," he said, looking at the detectives. "What about you guys?"

Munch looked at Fin and they both nodded agreement. They looked to the other two.

Olivia bit her lip. The look on Elliot's face told her plainly that he didn't like the idea. They held a quick conversation with their eyes. He jerked his head in disgust, and she smiled apologetically, knowing he understood.

"It's cool by me," she said.

Cragen nodded. His eyes fixed on Elliot. He could see the contempt on his face as well as the others could.

"Elliot?" he asked hesitantly.

Elliot raised his eyes to look at the captain before flicking them toward Sean. His brother made sure that Don's back was to him before fixing him with a look of gloating and a set of cockily raised eyebrows.

Sean's face split into a small grin when he saw the fury explode behind Elliot's eyes, knowing that he had to hold his tongue in the presence of his boss.

Pursing his lips tightly, Elliot looked back to Cragen. He looked at him and shrugged, not wanting to lie but at the same time not wanting to say what was currently on his mind.

"If you don't agree with us, now is the time to speak up," Don said impatiently.

He opened his mouth, hesitated, and tried again. The captain gave him an exasperated look.

"I just…" he began slowly. He glanced at Sean again. "What is that really going to accomplish?" He looked at Cragen earnestly. "We don't know anything about this guy at all… we don't even know for sure that it _is_ a guy. For all we know, we could be looking for a female perp." He shrugged again, and trailed off helplessly.

"Well….we know he likes prostitutes," Fin ventured to say. "We also know that he…." He looked at Elliot for a minute and amended his statement. "The_ perp_ uses chicken wire to hold the doors shut at the buildings he torches…"

"No," Elliot cut in. "We don't."

That made the others give him a surprised look.

"We know what Sean has _told _us," he continued. "So far, I have yet to see a single piece of tangible evidence."

Sean stepped from behind Cragen and walked over to where Elliot was sitting. The tension in his demeanor was obvious.

"Guys-" Cragen began, seeing the potential disaster brewing.

"What do you mean by that?" he said, ignoring the captain. Defense was clear in his stance.

Elliot shrugged one shoulder casually. "Nothing," he said flippantly. His eyes were cold and piercing as he looked at his brother though, belying the carefree gesture. "We should totally trust you, Sean." He raised one eyebrow in a clear indication of challenge, his voice dry and venomous. "You've never given me a reason not to, right?"

_Ooh…one point for Elliot!_ Olivia thought triumphantly, silently watching the exchange warily. After what Elliot had revealed to her on the roof, all thoughts of keeping an open mind about his brother were gone. She would gladly step in to be part of his tag team…no one messed with her best friend.

"Do you have something to say to me?" the elder Stabler asked angrily. He spread his arms out invitingly. "If so, let's hear it."

Just when it looked like he might, Cragen stepped in. "Cool it," he said warningly, looking first at Elliot and then to Sean. "Now."

Sean glared at his brother before stepping back.

The captain continued looking threateningly between the two brothers. "Is there an issue that you would care to discuss?" he continued.

"No, sir," Sean said easily, smiling in amusement.

Cragen looked at Elliot again, boring holes into him. The detective knew damn well that the captain wasn't looking for an affirmative response and if he dared to challenge that would stick his ass behind a desk until the next century.

He clenched his teeth. "No, sir," he echoed.

Cragen stepped back. Olivia glanced at her partner to see an expression of angry frustration.

"Well, regardless of whether or not all of us are in agreement," Don said, addressing everyone now. "We really don't have anything to lose at this point. Plan on working late tonight…Olivia, Fin, and John will be our backup team." He looked to the two brothers, his voice daring them to question his authority, and added, "Sean and Elliot…you _will_ be our lead team."

He looked at the small group in front of him. "I'll let you guys pick your positions if you want, or I can just assign them along with the rest."

"We'll take Lexington and 15th," Sean spoke up immediately.

Don looked at him a minute and nodded. "Sure," he agreed. Looking to the other three, he asked, "How about you?"

The trio looked at each other for a minute. Munch raised his eyebrows, and Fin and Olivia shrugged in a non-committing manner. "We'll take the area by the fire house," he volunteered.

He nodded again. "Ok," he said, checking his watch. "Give me about an hour to organize the remaining teams together, and we'll head out. Sean, go ahead and get in contact with the fire crew to let them know we're getting ready to set up. Tell them to be on alert."

Sean nodded.

"Everyone else," he continued, looking at the full squad room. "Just hang out for a bit…no one leave the precinct, got it?"

A series of nods and "yes, sir" responses chorused the air. Detectives began getting up. Some headed for the upstairs lounge, some left the squad room, and others began talking and milling around.

Elliot got up and headed straight for the stairs. Olivia knew that he was most likely going to the workout room to get rid of his current anger…she pitied the punching bags at the moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sean get ready to follow him up.

"Don't you think it would be better if you stayed here?" she asked, coldly.

He looked at her in annoyance. "I don't remember asking _your_ opinion," he said rudely.

Fortunately, Cragen agreed with her. "Ah, Sean," he called before he got up two stairs. He gestured for him to come back. "There's no reason for you to go up there right now….you stay down here."

A smirk escaped Olivia before she could stop it. Unfortunately, Sean was looking right at her and caught it. He glared at her in disgust before returning to the ground and walking toward the coffee machine.

About twenty minutes later, Elliot came tearing down the stairs like the devil was after him. Olivia looked up from the paperwork she was occupying herself with in surprise. He was sweaty and wearing workout clothes. He burst into Cragen's office, startling him as well.

"Quick, turn on the TV," he said urgently. "There's been another fire."

Sean was closest and flipped on the set. Most everyone had returned by then and immediately went over to the small TV. Elliot came out of the office with Don right behind him.

The screen zoned in on a building engulfed in flames. That in itself didn't surprise them, but the building did. They all recognized it.

"Damn," Munch said in shock. "That's Phil's Grill."

It was a well-established city diner that was a primary hangout for various members of the NYPD. Everyone at the 16th precinct had been there at least once. Elliot and Olivia were among the frequents- they went there for lunch almost every time they were in the area.

A female reporter was a little ways down the street, with the burning building visible behind her. The somber look on her face put the detectives on alert.

"We are coming to you live from downtown Manhattan," the woman said into her microphone. "Behind me is a local establishment known as Phil's Grill, located on 23rd Avenue…where a little under ten minutes ago a fire broke out in the second-story boiler room. The fire has quickly spread to the ground floor dining area…firefighters are working to get it under control, but at the moment we are being told that there are still many people inside."

"Dear God," Elliot murmured in horror. His stomach dropped. There were people _inside?_

The noise level in the room had completely diminished now, as all the detectives were focused on the horrible scene on the television.

The reporter startled for a minute, and reached for her left ear, revealing a microphone placed there. She turned away from the camera for a minute.

"I have just been informed that there are still twelve people trapped in the dining area," she reported, turning to face the camera again. "All of them are members of the New York Police Department."

Cragen's face paled. Several audible gasps were heard around the room from some who couldn't contain their horror. Olivia looked at Elliot with an expression of horrified disbelief.

The scene shifted back to the main news anchors, but no one moved away from the television. Even when the channel broke for a commercial, there was no movement. Everyone was shocked speechless and motionless.

A few minutes later, the news anchors came back on.

"We will be returning to the scene of the fire at Phil's Grill later on in our broadcast," said the man. "More information will be released as it becomes available, but we have been informed by fire officials that they believe this is an act of arson." The camera shifted to his female co-anchor. "In other news," she said. "City council is calling this year's polls…."

The captain blinked after a minute, realizing they were all still staring at the screen blankly. He shook himself quickly and reached for the power button.

Forty detectives and an ATF agent were staring at him, aghast. He swallowed hard and turned around to face them. Taking a shaky breath, he began to speak, but his words caught in his throat.

"Forget the lists," he said, swallowing hard. He tried to make his voice as strong as he could. "Everyone except you five…" He waved a hand listlessly toward Elliot, Olivia, Munch, Fin, and Sean. "Get into groups of four. We're moving on this right now."

Other detectives jumped to attention and immediately began grouping together. Most groups were two sets of partners, but no one was really paying attention. They knew that now was not the time to quibble over details.

Olivia shifted in her seat and adjusted the air-conditioning vent to hit a little higher up on her face. Beside her, Munch was leaning forward toward the open car window with a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes, sweeping the perimeter for the hundredth time.

"You know," his partner grumbled from his spot in the back behind Olivia. "Having the window down really isn't helping the air-conditioning back here."

John ignored him, as usual. He didn't even acknowledge that he had heard. Fin jerked up to the edge of the seat suddenly, startling Olivia with his movement, and reached over the center console to yank the middle vent in his direction. He flipped the air control to the highest it could go and sat back again angrily.

"How's it looking on your end, guys?" Cragen's voice broke through the silence suddenly and boomed out of the radio.

Glad for the distraction, Olivia snatched the microphone as Munch was reaching for it and pulled it towards her.

"Nothing yet," she reported. "In fact, we haven't seen a human being in over twenty minutes."

"Unless you count Sparky the Dalmatian," Munch said, grabbing the mic from her hand before she could react. "He's been running around the fire trucks for almost a half-hour…I'm surprised the dog hasn't puked yet."

Don rolled his eyes in disgust. "Just keep your eyes open," he said in annoyance, and replaced his mic.

"What else did you think we were going to do?" he heard Munch say in a dry, sarcastic voice.

He sighed and shook his head, keeping up his watch from the squad car he was in. The alley he was parked in was a perfect place to not be seen….but it left him little room to see past the dumpsters twenty feet in front of him. He was considered the center base, as the teams were each stationed in various points to the east and west of his location.

Elliot scanned the street corner again, watching the hookers parading up and down the "strip", as it was popularly called. If their guy was looking to get lucky tonight, this would be the place to go.

Keeping his gaze sharp and observant, he allowed his thoughts to wander. This was, in his opinion, a huge waste of time and effort. If their purpose was to go unnoticed, they were definitely failing miserably. The two good-looking men in the blue Toyota Tundra were not passed off by the working girls…Elliot had counted twenty offers in the two hours they had been sitting here, and he was disgusted.

Sean, of course, took it as an ego boost. Though he kept focused on their task, he would hang out of the open window whenever a girl would approach and begin flirting charmingly with her. He seemed to get a kick out of getting them excited before telling them that he was working and would have to take a raincheck.

Due to his brother's tactless attempt at entertaining himself, the girls would keep coming….Elliot knew this. He also knew that if the guy they were after _was_ in the vicinity, he wouldn't be for very long…not if he had to compete for attention.

Somehow, by some extreme force of will, Elliot managed to hold his tongue while Sean was busy lapping it up and concentrate on keeping watch. But finally, one encounter pushed him over the edge.

After getting a negative response from Elliot, the girl had crossed the street to the driver's side to flirt with Sean. When he told her he was working, this one decided not to take no for an answer. She leaned into the window and began touching him and giggling annoyingly.

Elliot's breath caught in irritation…this girl couldn't have been older than 20. But he bit his lip and kept his focus out the side window. Then his brother began playing with her.

"So, what's this color?" he teased, lifting her hand and drawing a lazy finger down her brightly painted nails. "It looks like celery."

The girl's high-pitched giggle assaulted Elliot's ears, and he felt his blood pressure start to rise. Gritting his teeth, he still remained silent.

"You are so _funny,_" the cheaply made up redhead drawled, running a hand over his shoulder.

"Well, you know…" Sean said, smiling a charming smile. "I like to have fun…especially with redheads."

_Oh good lord,_ Elliot thought in irritation.

As predicted, the girl got excited at that. "Really?" she purred in a seductive voice. "Well, I can show you fun…fun like you have _never _seen before."

Elliot couldn't stop from looking over at them now; he just couldn't believe how ridiculous this was.

The redhead saw him looking and smiled widely. "How about it?" she said invitingly, running her hand up and down Sean's arm again as she spoke. "I'll show you and that cutie in the passenger seat a good time tonight." She began reaching for the driver's side door handle, smiling predatorily.

Elliot drew his badge out of the pocket of his jeans. "Honey," he said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Unless you want a good time in a federal lockup, I suggest you get off of this street corner."

The girl's eyes widened and she jerked away from the door. "Look…I-I didn't know you guys were cops," she began stammering in a panic. "Please, I can't go to jail…please, I'm not looking for trouble, mister, honest!"

"Neither are we," Elliot said calmly. "We're not going to arrest you tonight…._if _ you turn around right now and go home. I don't want to see you again, got it? Otherwise, I will arrest you."

"Yes, sir," she said, her eyes wide. She backed away frantically, holding her hands up. "Yes, sir…I swear to God. I don't want any trouble, I swear to God."

"Good," Elliot said. "Get going."

The girl took off so fast that he could swear he saw skid marks on the sidewalk. Shaking his head, he readjusted his body to scan out the window again. A loud scoff from Sean made him turn back.

"Way to be obvious, fuck head," Sean said snidely. "You just broadcasted us to the whole street corner."

Elliot couldn't stop his jaw from dropping in shock. "What the hell….are you _kidding _me?" he asked angrily. "You're a fucking undercover _cop_ hitting on a fucking prostitute! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Go to hell," Sean spat out. "You're just jealous because she liked me better."

Red spots danced before Elliot's eyes, and his fists clenched. "You know what, Sean?" he said furiously. Right now, he was ready to pop the jackass in the mouth as hard as he could.

Sean turned toward him with a threatening posture and glared at him. "What?" he said with challenge in his tone.

Breathing hard, Elliot stared coldly at him. Fortunately, his mind caught up….he was on-duty, and had a job to do. His teeth were locked so tight that his jaw trembled as he glared at his brother.

"Forget it," he hissed, and turned away from him, withdrawing as totally as if there was a cement wall between them.

Finally, four hours after beginning the surveillance, Cragen called them in.

"Alright, everyone," he said, hoping that he wasn't making a mistake. "Pack it in for tonight…we're going to have to regroup this. Everyone head back to the station."

He waited for each of the seven teams to give him affirmative responses before replacing the radio and starting the engine.

"Well," Munch said in disgust, hearing the captain's announcement. He shifted the sedan into drive. "That was fun."

Olivia buckled her seat belt and stretched her legs out. Bringing them back up, she tilted her head slowly to the left and her neck popped with an amazingly loud crackling sound.

"Sick," Fin said, in an awed voice.

She straightened her head and turned to look at him before tilting her head in the other direction and doing it again to the other side.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "I had to do it."

The teams pulled into the parking lot of the precinct within the next half-hour. Cragen's car was there, along with almost all of the other detectives. The captain was standing with the others in a group when Munch parked the sedan and shut off the ignition. Olivia got out and stretched, her muscles stiff from sitting down for so long. Fin did the same.

They walked over to join the rest of them. Olivia began looking for Elliot, and didn't see him or Sean.

"We're waiting on Elliot and Sean," Cragen said. "As soon as they get here, we'll call it a night."

At that minute, a loud squeal of tires echoed in the quiet night air. Their heads all swiveled around toward the sound.

The blue Tundra slammed on brakes hard beside the entrance to the parking lot so fast that it made tire tracks in the pavement.

Elliot jumped from the passenger side without closing the door. "Get out!" they heard him scream. "Come on…I'm going to kick your _ass_!"

Cragen began running over to the truck. Naturally, the others followed, their interests peaked.

As soon as Sean opened the door, Elliot slugged him so hard that he bounced off of the truck and hit the ground.

But he recovered quickly, and as his brother was going for another blow, Sean aimed a well-placed kick to his mid-section.

The air exploded from Elliot's lungs as he felt the wind knocked out of him. He went down on one knee, gasping for air. Sean used the opportunity to plow a fist right into his face.

Snarling like an animal, Elliot knocked Sean to the ground with a sweeping kick and struggled to get over top of him.

"Hey, hey!" Angry shouts were heard, and then Elliot felt himself being pulled off of Sean by several strong arms. He struggled as hard as he could to get them off, but failed.

Munch and two other detectives dragged Sean off of the ground and pulled him away. He was breathing hard, but didn't resist.

Cragen and Fin had a hold of Elliot, and were dragging him across the parking lot. He jumped and fought wildly, still so angry that all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of Sean.

He was caught off guard when he felt himself being yanked sideways, and then he was in an arm lock.

"Knock it off, Elliot!" Cragen barked, his voice angrier than he had ever heard before. He tightened his vice grip on his detective's arm. "I mean it!"

Finally, he surrendered and stopped fighting, and was released immediately.

Olivia planted herself in front of her partner in case he got any bright ideas. He was already in enough trouble as it was. He glared at her, and she glared right back, not intimidated at all.

"You're full of shit, Elliot!" Sean yelled from across the parking lot. "Nothing but shit!"

"Fuck you, Sean!" he screamed back at him.

"**Shut up**!" Cragen bellowed. Olivia jumped. "**Both of you!"**

Gulping in a breath, Elliot shut his mouth. He was trembling with adrenaline, one hand reaching up to gingerly feel his nose. The taste of blood was starting to make him nauseous.

"If I hear another word, you're ass is going to be suspended," he said, glaring at Elliot. Then he turned to Sean. "And you're going to go back to Jersey…..you got me?"

Neither man spoke. The other detectives, split into two groups on opposite sides of the parking lot, watched warily.

Sensing movement behind her, Olivia turned and planted a hand on the solid wall of Elliot's chest. "Stop it," she snapped. "Just leave it the hell alone, Elliot."

The captain continued to glare at them. "I want you both in my office tomorrow morning at 7 am," he growled. "If you can give me one good reason why the both of you shouldn't be fired, I'll consider letting you keep your jobs."

_Fuck!_ Elliot thought wildly.

"Everyone go home," Cragen said. "Now."

He sounded so pissed off that the others all scurried away quickly without a word.

Don glared at Sean again before turning around and striding over to Elliot. "You've pushed it too far," he hissed at him. "This is it for you, Elliot….I'm sick of this shit. You had better come up with a damn good excuse by the morning, because otherwise you're out of here."

Olivia's eyes bugged out at the statement, but she quickly composed herself.

Elliot looked at him in shock. He felt like he was going to puke.

The captain walked away without another word. Olivia looked at Elliot, waiting for an explanation, but he didn't even glance her way before going to his truck. He got inside and pulled away like a bat out of hell.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"_Elliot!" she yelled, banging on the door when she reached it. _

_She turned the doorknob and was surprised to find it open. Bolting through, she was immediately encased in smoke…it engulfed the entire inside. _

_Her heart leaped into her throat. "Elliot!" she cried in panic._

_She fumbled through the room, smoke choking her and making her eyes water. All of the sudden, a rush of flames shot up from the middle of the room. Startled, she took a quick step back and ended up falling to the floor._

_She started to cough violently, the smoke searing her lungs. The crackling of flames was deafening, and she felt the heat of the fire next to her face. Frantically, she backpedaled and tried to feel her way towards the door again._

_A sudden, loud cry made her freeze in her tracks. Her blood turned to ice, and she whipped around, her eyes darting around wildly. _

"_Elliot?" she yelled. _

"_OLIVIA!" He screamed out her name, and the terror in his voice was unmistakable._

_All thoughts of getting out left her mind. Olivia began feeling her way back towards the middle of the room. The flames leapt up at her again, and she screamed as they almost touched her face._

_He yelled out again, sounding close. When the flames fell away, she caught a glimpse of Elliot lying on the ground._

"_I'm coming!" she yelled, diving to the floor. She began crawling towards him, trying to stay low enough to avoid being suffocated by the smoke. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally was close enough to reach out and touch him. _

_She looked up in time to see a flaming piece of the crumbling staircase flying towards him. She threw herself over his body and clutched him tight, trying desperately to shield him._

"_OLIVIA!" he yelled in anguish. She watched in horror as flames suddenly shot up from the ground, encasing his body from the bottom up._

"_NO!" she screamed. She scrambled over top of him desperately, trying with all her might to protect him. "No, Elliot!" _

_His screams echoed in the air, and she screamed in agony, sobbing. "No! No, Elliot!"_

"No! NO!"

Olivia's own shrill scream woke her. She was draped over top of her pillow, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles were white. Gasping, she eased her grip and slowly came to her senses. Her body shook violently, and she sobbed in anguish as she realized where she was.

The pain of his face slipping down and hitting the pillow shocked Elliot out of an uncomfortable sleep for the third time in an hour. Growling, he sat up and pushed aside the offending object, sliding his feet to the floor.

Despite having both of his bedroom windows open and the ceiling fan going full blast, the air was still stifling as he padded over to the small bathroom and flicked on the light.

Touching his hand to his nose, his lips curled in disgust when he realized that it had started to bleed again. Yanking the bloody towel from where he had thrown it earlier in the night, he held it to his face and tilted his head back until it stopped.

When he was sure it was no longer bleeding, Elliot went over to the sink and washed his face gently. When he finished, he eyed his reflection in the mirror. His face was so swollen that he looked bloated; his right eye was blackened and a cut framed the corner of his mouth.

Huffing in anger, he turned off the bathroom light and crossed to his bed again. He looked at the clock as he lay on his back- 3 am. The thin sheets lying tangled beside him irritated him beyond reason, and he kicked at them until they fell from the bed. Lying flat again, he tried to relax, but couldn't concentrate past the heat. Huffing again, he let out a frustrated yell, taking selfish satisfaction at the sound echoing around the room.

He knew he was acting like a baby at the moment, but to be honest he could have cared less. It was hot, his face throbbed, and he was wide-awake when he wanted to be asleep. This night, in his opinion, sucked…and what did he have to look forward to in the morning? An ass-chewing…._again_.

Jesus….how many of those had he gotten since Sean showed up? Was he the only one who thought it ironic that he was getting in more trouble now?

He reviewed the events of the night in his head. The comments Sean had made as they were pulling into the precinct had crossed the line….and he knew that full well. He had wanted to piss him off.

He remembered the reactions he had gotten from his colleagues and boss….especially his boss. Wincing, he thought back to his previous statement: was he the only one who saw all of this as ironic?

Huffing, he flipped over carefully._ Looks like it._

Olivia once again had to stop herself from calling Elliot…he wouldn't appreciate being woken up at that hour of the morning. She had talked to herself for almost an hour before finally drifting off to sleep, verbally assuring herself that he was perfectly fine and that she would see him in a few hours. Deep in her heart, she was clinging in terror to the hope that she was right.

It was weird coming in to an empty squad room. Elliot made sure to arrive a few minutes before seven to avoid any chance of pissing Cragen off more and headed straight for his office. He took a breath before knocking hesitantly, unnerved by how much it felt like he was in school being sent to the principal's office.

"Come in, Elliot," Cragen said from inside.

He didn't sound happy, but he didn't sound overly angry, either. Maybe there was a chance that he would come out of this with his head, after all. Sucking in another deep breath, Elliot opened the door and stepped inside.

Sean had not arrived. Cragen was busily writing something. "Take a seat," he commanded without lifting his head.

Swallowing nervously, Elliot silently did so. Cragen didn't speak, so he waited tensely. It was so quiet in the small office that he was afraid to even breathe loudly.

A sharp knock sounded at seven on the dot. Elliot kept his gaze to the wall in front of him, refusing to look at Sean as he entered and was told to sit in the chair next to him. As he sat, Elliot risked a quick glance at him, and smirked in satisfaction when he saw the huge bruise covering the left side of Sean's jaw.

Don got up and crossed over to where they sat. The two instantly sat straighter as he reached around to shut the blinds and walked back to his desk, sitting down again. He folded his hands firmly on his desk and looked at them with a stern gaze.

They were each looking in opposite directions, avoiding his eyes and each other. He bit back a disgusted sigh as he swept his eyes over each of them in turn. Sean had a colorful bruise on the side of his face and a busted lip. Elliot had a black eye and a bashed nose that was swollen to the point of disfiguration. They looked like two boys who had been in a schoolyard fight.

He shook his head and sighed out loud this time, sounding more tired than angry.

"So," he said, finally breaking the silence that hung. "Somebody going to tell me what that little performance last night was all about?"

Sean was looking angrily at the ground. Elliot was avoiding his eyes, picking listlessly at a thread on his shirt. Neither spoke. Cragen waited a minute, his eyebrows raised, but there was still nothing.

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. "Ok," he said, with carefully controlled anger. "So that's how you want to be…..that's fine." His tone was condescending and yet dangerous at the same time. He flicked his gaze between them again to see if he had gotten through to one of them yet, and had the same results. He decided it was time to play hard ball.

"I want all of your personal items cleaned out in the next twenty minutes. Turn in your badges and guns before you leave…Sean, I'll be sure that Chief Hammond gets yours."

That did the trick. Elliot jerked his head up and stared at him with panic in his eyes. Sean was trying to act like he wasn't effected, but Don could see the fear on his face as he fought to keep his eyes averted.

"Have I got your attention now?" he asked firmly, staring Elliot directly in the eyes. He moved to Sean after a minute and saw that he was now looking at him as well.

They both nodded silently.

"So, let me ask again," the captain continued stonily. He glared at the both of them, one at a time, and spoke with deliberate slowness. "Why were you fighting?"

He was speaking to both of them, but his eyes were fixed on his detective. "If I don't get an answer out of somebody in the next two seconds, both of you are going to be out of a job," he said threateningly.

Elliot shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to come off sounding like a tattletale, but he didn't want to lose his job over this, either.

Sean finally spoke up, and his words were such a shock to Elliot that he was rendered temporarily speechless. "It wasn't his fault," he said begrudgingly, refusing to look Don in the eye. "I started it."

The captain turned his attention to Sean then, who met his gaze briefly. "I said some things just because I knew it would piss him off," he continued.

Don looked at him for another minute before going back to Elliot. "Is that true?" he asked.

Elliot folded his arms defensively, glowering. "Yes, sir," he said evenly.

Cragen glanced at him briefly, and then turned a stern stare on Sean. "You requested this unit so that we could help you solve your case," he said evenly. "Now, I'm not sure what is going on between you two, but I won't tolerate anyone causing trouble on my team, do you understand me?"

Sean nodded. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.

He quickly went back to the detective. "You know better," he snapped harshly, glaring at him. "If you have a problem, you act like an adult and take it up with me…I expect that kind of immature behavior from an academy candidate, not a veteran detective."

Elliot's face reddened under the scolding. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

Don shook his head angrily before staring at them hard again. "I'm giving you one day," he said threateningly. "If I hear so much as a cuss word from either one of you, you'll both be out of here so fast your heads will spin." His eyebrows rose in anger. "You got me?"

They both nodded quickly.

"Good," he said. "Get out of here."

They leaped up quickly and left the office so fast that Cragen felt a rush of air. Once they were gone, he sighed tiredly. He really hated it when he had to pull rank on his detectives like that…it happened so rarely that it felt foreign to him. He felt incredibly blessed to have such a terrific team- the four of them were by far the most dedicated group he had ever worked with.

Once again, Olivia found herself trembling as she stood in the elevator, waiting to go to the 12th floor. She bit her lip hard and walked purposely toward the squad room. When she reached the corner, she paused involuntarily, for a fleeting moment too terrified of the thought of not seeing him inside.

_Stop it!_ Scolding herself harshly, she stepped around the corner and saw Elliot at once. She shook her head as she walked through the doors. If she kept this up, she was going to need a vacation.

After what had happened the night before, she had to admit a certain level of surprise at seeing both he and Sean there. They were on opposite sides of the room, naturally, and didn't spare each other so much as a glance….but after how angry Cragen had been, Olivia had honestly been preparing to work solo after having Elliot suspended.

Her locker was empty that morning, which came as a surprise, but she noticed that all of Elliot's things were on his desk beside him. After putting her things away, she went to her desk and switched on the small lamp.

"You want to put your stuff in my locker?" she offered, looking at him.

Elliot looked up at her, his face registering surprise at her presence. He hadn't even noticed her walk in.

"Huh?" he said, blinking. He scrubbed a hand over his face wearily. "Oh, uh…no. No that's alright." His head tipped back down to his work again.

Olivia frowned as she scrutinized him more closely. His face was swollen painfully, and she had seen exhaustion in his eyes during her brief look into them. Getting up, she walked over to the refrigerator.

A thump next to his hand made Elliot jump, and he shot a startled glance at his partner. She was looking at him meaningfully. Looking down, he saw that she had placed an ice pack on his desk.

His answering grin was sheepish. He had been too proud to admit that his face was hurting so badly that he could hardly concentrate…leave it to Olivia to figure it out after one second of looking at him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, picking up the bag. The cold rush was a welcome relief to his sore nose.

She grinned fully at him, glad to see him accept her olive branch. "So….how did it go?" she asked hesitantly.

Her partner met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. "Well…I'm still here, aren't I?" he said wryly, grinning a little to show her that he didn't mind the question.

She relaxed visibly, having half-expected a smart remark. "Glad to hear it," she said.

His smile reached his eyes this time and she smiled back, pleased with herself. They settled into another day.

Elliot's desk phone rang at about 10:30, breaking his concentration. He looked up blearily, his eyes crossed from staring at the report in front of him for so long, and grabbed it.

"Special Victims Unit, Detective Stabler," he answered. His face relaxed at the familiar voice. "Hey! How-?"

His friendly greeting caught in his throat as he listened to his ex-captain's words, and he felt the blood rush from his face. "Oh, my god."

The tone of his voice caught Olivia's attention. She looked up and was startled at the horrified look on Elliot's face. Her eyes rounding worriedly, she dropped her pen and focused her attention on him as he was listening.

"Oh, Jesus," he murmured, sliding a hand up to his forehead. His stomach swirled violently, threatening to expel his breakfast right there on his desk. He had to swallow hard to keep it together. "Sweet Jesus…." His eyes slid closed. "Yes," he continued. "Yes, of course I will….yes. You got it….ok. I'm…alright. You, too. Bye."

Blindly, Elliot fumbled to replace the receiver. His vision exploded into spots before his eyes as the force of the words he had just heard impacted him.

"Elliot?" Olivia said, immediately concerned by the look on his face. She stood up quickly in alarm. He looked like he was going to pass out. "Elliot, who was that?"

Munch looked up curiously at her tone and immediately stood up as well when he saw her partner. Fin, startled by his actions, looked first at him and then over to the other desk. He was instantly on alert, seeing Elliot's white face.

Olivia quickly came around the desk, grabbing his arm firmly. "What happened?" she asked again, her voice scared now. His arm was quivering under her fingers.

Ignoring her, Elliot pushed himself shakily out of the chair and stumbled blindly toward the captain's office.

Don jumped about three feet when his door suddenly busted open, scattering his papers. "Geez!" he squawked, glaring at the intruder. "What in-"

The words died on lips when he got a good look at Elliot. "What's the matter?" he asked urgently, getting quickly to his feet.

"Captain," Elliot said weakly. He had to gulp in a breath to keep his stomach from rebelling again. "Captain…."

"What is it?" he asked again. "Elliot, what?"

Olivia appeared in his office a second later, and Don looked at her, panicked. "What happened?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she said. "Someone called and he flipped out."

Gulping in another breath, Elliot managed to choke out his words. "Tom-Tom Clancy called me," he said weakly. "From the 3-5 in Queens. The fire…twelve of his guys were killed in the fire yesterday."

Olivia's eyes widened. Elliot choked violently. "One of them was my ex-partner."

"Oh, God," Cragen murmured. He looked at Elliot in horror. "Elliot, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head wildly. "Look, I….he wants me to be a pallbearer," he stuttered. "There's going to be a service tomorrow night…I-"

"You're going to go," Cragen said firmly.

"But-the case…we have-" He was still shocked, and it showed.

"Don't worry about the case," Olivia jumped in, gripping his shoulder. "You need to be there for your friends. We'll handle it."

Cragen nodded when Elliot looked at him dumbly. "We'll handle it," he repeated. He looked at his detective squarely, knowing his thoughts. "Elliot, go down to the 3-5," he said. "Just go."

"Are you sure?" Elliot asked slowly.

"Go," he repeated firmly.

Nodding, Elliot went out the door without another word.

Olivia looked at the captain, dumbfounded. He sighed heavily. "I have a feeling this case just got too much for us to handle," he said grimly.

Sean poked his head in the door. "Captain, he said.

Cragen acknowledged him with raised eyebrows.

"I just got a call from Chief Hammond," he said. "He needs an emergency meeting right away….he says he wants you there this time."

The captain slid his eyes shut tiredly. "Is he on the phone?" he asked.

Sean nodded.

"Let me talk to him." He followed Sean over to the desk he was using and picked up the receiver.

Olivia went to her desk, still in a daze over what had happened.

"What the hell is going on?" Munch asked her, coming over with Fin. "What happened to Elliot?"

"You know that fire at Phil's Grill?" she asked.

They nodded.

She looked pained. "The police officers inside were killed. They were all from Elliot's old precinct in Queens, and one of them was his partner."

"Holy shit," Fin breathed, unable to help it.

Munch shook his head in astonishment.

"Great," Cragen growled bitterly, slamming the phone down. The three of them looked at him at once. He sighed angrily and stalked toward his office.

"What's up?" Munch called.

He looked at them. "Arthur Branch suggested to Chief Hammond at ATF that I go down there for an emergency meeting," he said. "Somehow, word got out about the cops killed and none of us knew about it. He insists that I get down there right now."

They looked at him in surprise, the news startling them as much as it had him. He shook his head. "I have no choice," he said. "Everyone go home….you can't work without a captain."

The detectives looked at him with raised eyebrows. "There's nothing I can do," he said, shrugging a shoulder helplessly. He looked around the room and spoke firmly. "I mean it. Everyone has to go."

The detectives all began heading for their desks and lockers silently.

Elliot walked straight into his old squad room at the 3-5, feeling like he had never left despite the many years since he had been gone.

"Stabler," one cop said in surprise when he noticed him.

He walked over to the man immediately. "Hey, Frank," he said somberly, holding out his hand to his old friend. "How is everyone holding up?" The sorrow in his eyes was evident in his voice.

Frank grimaced. "We're all shit crazy," he said hoarsely. "Everyone is still in shock…it's like we're walking around in a dream or something."

The pain in the man's voice struck a familiar chord with Elliot. Frank had lost his partner as well. He squeezed the man's shoulder, but couldn't think of anything to say at the moment. Finally, he just said, "Is Tom around?"

"Yeah," Frank answered, clearing his throat roughly. "He's in the office."

Clapping his shoulder, Elliot moved on toward the office of his old captain and knocked lightly. "Can I come in?" he asked softly, poking his head through the open door.

Tom Clancy looked up and hung up the phone he was holding. "Elliot," he said in surprise. "Of course, come on in."

He came and sat in the chair positioned in front of the big desk. "Tom," he said after a minute. He trailed off, trying to figure out what to say. "When did you find out?" he asked finally.

The captain shook his head. "I didn't suspect a thing," he said heavily. "The commissioner called me at three in the morning to tell me that the Medical Examiner had identified them as my guys."

Elliot felt tears bubbling up, but swallowed them. "I'm so sorry," he said, thickly. "God…this is a nightmare."

"Well, it's just become our nightmare," he said, his voice suddenly angry. "This son of a bitch picked the wrong squad to mess with….I'm recruiting them to help catch the bastard."

"Tom," Elliot said carefully. "Look, I know you're upset…but you've got to think of those 12 guys. They deserve a respectful service and burial. Concentrate on that for now, please." He realized he was pleading then. "Please….let us handle it. We're going to get him. I promise."

Clancy stared at him stonily for a long time and didn't speak. "I want you to catch him, Elliot," he finally said. "Do that for me…when the bastard finally gets caught, promise me you'll be the one to do it."

Elliot leaned forward and stared him straight in the eyes. "You have my word," he said with conviction. "If it takes the rest of my life, I'm going to get him."

"I've always trusted your word," Tom said quietly. "You've never let me down."

The quiet admission came as a surprise to Elliot, and he was speechless. He just nodded. "What can I do to help with the services?" he asked, switching focus.

Cragen arrived in New Jersey at 3 o'clock and drove forty more minutes to ATF headquarters. It took ten minutes for him to finally find his way to Hammond's office on the third floor. Stepping off of the elevator, he took a minute to compose himself before walking to the door and knocking.

"Come in," a man said from inside.

Don stepped inside. The man behind the desk looked at him in surprise, and Cragen was equally surprised to see the stranger instead of Chief Hammond.

"Can I help you?" he asked curiously.

"Um…I'm sorry," he said, confused. He stepped over to check the number on the door. "I thought this was Chief Hammond's office…sorry to bother you."

"You were right," the man said quickly, stopping Don from stepping out. "I'm Chief Hammond."

Confusion flooded the captain's senses. "Excuse me?" he asked in bewilderment. He had seen Jeff Hammond once or twice in his years as a cop, and he most certainly not this man.

"You're looking for Chief Hammond," the man said, looking at him quizzically. "Here I am."

Don was so confused that he couldn't speak for a minute. "Um…well, I'm looking for Jeffrey Hammond," he said slowly. "Is there another person by that name here?"

The man looked at him in exasperation. "I am Jeff Hammond," he said edgily. He produced his badge and flashed it in front of Don. "What seems to be the issue here, sir?"

Cragen looked in awe at the badge in front of him. There it was, clear as day: Chief Jeffrey Hammond, badge number A154. The man's picture was next to the words, confirming them.

"I'm Donald Cragen, from the Manhattan Special Victims Unit," Don said slowly.

It was the man's turn to be confused. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"What?" Cragen spat out in astonishment, unable to hold it in. This whole situation was too damn weird for him. "Look," he said, his patience wearing out. "The NYPD commissioner told me that you called an emergency meeting after speaking to Agent Stabler about the arson case...I'd really appreciate it if we could move things along. My squad is without a captain right now."

"Agent who?" the man asked.

Don threw his hands up in frustration. "Sean Stabler!" he cried. "The agent that you sent to New York so that we could help with your case!"

The man looked angry now. "Sir, I'm not sure what kind of game this is," he said. "But I'm getting ready to call security…you need to leave the premises right now."

"Wait!" Cragen cried. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I don't have an agent by that name, sir," the man said angrily. "Whoever's idea of a joke this is…"

"What do you mean he's not your agent?" Don asked in disbelief. He paused a minute, trying to make some sense out of this. "Did he get transferred?"

"We have never had an employee by that name here," the man said in frustration.

At the captain's perplexed look, he dug into a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. "See for yourself if you don't believe me," he said, exasperated. He shook it in Cragen's direction. "Those are the names of every agent employed in the last five years."

Don scanned the alphabetical list of last names, his pulse quickening as he got near the end. The man hadn't been lying. There was no Stabler listed.

Hammond watched the man in front of him as he looked at him in panic. His face softened. "Look, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," he said. "I apologize for you having to come all the way out here, but-"

"No, you don't understand," Don cut in quickly. His mind was racing now as he looked to the man at the desk. His stomach dropped. "We've got a huge problem."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note:** on, review, review! You know you want to….do I have to beg? Oh all right….please? Pretty please? I'll give you…. (insert favorite candy or food here)!

It didn't really hit him until he was sitting in his office at his apartment. Munch was sitting in his cushioned rolling chair in front of his desk, having just finished typing in the web address for the precinct on his laptop, and had to freeze when the realization hit.

He had no life.

He had just been given what every working American dreams for….a day off in the middle of the workweek, with no penalty or effect on his sick day accumulation, and what was he doing with his time?

Working on case files.

John sighed, sitting back and taking his glasses off momentarily. _I should really get a social life, _he mused dryly. _When's the last time I went on a date?_

Scoffing, he shook his head and put his glasses back on. "Oh, yeah," he thought aloud. "Now I remember…wife number three took me to alimony court five years ago…wonder if that counts?"

Chuckling, he went to the SVU homepage and typed in his password. He recalled how miserable most of the divorcees he knew had been after splitting with their wives. Most of them thought he was just cruel, but he was only being reasonable….he had a large brownstone in a nice neighborhood, worked all the hours he wanted, and didn't have to shell out monthly support payments thanks to the alimony settlement.

All in all, it seemed like he was getting the better end of the deal.

Not surprisingly, his train of thought drifted to Elliot then. Newly divorced men were always obvious, and in Elliot's case, he was painfully so. The poor man still wore his wedding ring. The rumor going around the office was that he was still so naïve that he was convinced he and his wife would get back together.

Everyone was careful not to let Elliot hear them say that, or for that matter, Olivia either. Any time one of them mentioned the slightest thing about his family at all, she would jump in with claws, ready to defend him.

Munch himself stayed away from the gossip mill as a courtesy to Elliot because he was his friend. But he still managed to hear what was being said behind the coffee pot in the mornings.

His thoughts strayed even more and he began thinking about this crazy new case. He wasn't used to having a case just fall into their laps like this one had, and to him it seemed like things were getting more and more confusing. Dead prostitutes…uncoordinated stakeouts… spontaneous fires…hell, he was still confused as to what they were even looking for.

The news about the officers killed in the last fire had been a total shock. It was never easy to hear about a brother killed in the line of duty, but to have them die that way seemed to add insult to injury.

_Elliot sure took it hard, _he thought, recalling the events of the morning. _ Oh, wait…he said that one of them was an old part-_

In that instant, something clicked in John's brain. He sat still in shock, the thought making his heart race. It couldn't be…

He thought back rapidly to the beginning of the case. Two dead prostitutes, one of them an undercover cop. Both women choked, found with lighter fluid on their bodies.

A fire at the 3-5 precinct, two civilians killed. Another fire at Phil's Grill, twelve police officers killed from the same precinct.

Frowning, he swiveled the chair around and reached for his leather work bag hanging on the coat rack. Rifling through it, he unearthed the notes he had copied from Melinda and skimmed them.

Reaching behind him again, he grabbed a notepad and pen and scribbled down details about the prostitutes. Turning around again, he sat back and tapped the pen against his teeth.

"You're jumping to conclusions," he said aloud in frustration. "Too much work with no breaks, Munch."

He sighed and twirled the pen between his fingers. The thought in his mind was threatening to explode, but he fought it.

His mind flashed back to the debate that had risen the day before.

"_We know what Sean has **told** us...so far I have yet to see a single piece of tangible evidence."_

A sudden thought came to the surface, and the pieces fell together. "Fuck!" he exclaimed. "That's it!"

Quickly, he reached for the phone.

Olivia was getting ready to step into a hot shower when the phone rang. "Damn it," she grumbled, shutting the water off. Wrapping a towel around herself, she went into the bedroom.

"Benson," she answered.

"I figured it out!" Munch said quickly. "The case, the fires….it all connects to Elliot."

It took her a minute to make sense of the rapidly fired words. "What?" she asked. "John, what are you-?"

"It all makes sense," he barreled on, cutting her off. "The prostitutes both brown-haired and blue-eyed…like Elliot. A fire was set at the 3-5 precinct in Queens…his old station."

She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, dancing around to try and relieve the feeling of sweat dripping down her back.

"You're talking crazy!" she said. "I know we're all anxious to get this guy, but come on, John! Brown hair and blue eyes?"

He kept going as if he hadn't heard. "The fire at Phil's Grill killed twelve of his old colleagues….and his _ex-partner!_ And don't forget about the fire at his apartment complex…his _apartment complex_, Olivia!"

"That was an accident," she protested weakly, but her stomach was starting to churn

She thought back to the nightmares she had been having. _No,_ she berated herself sharply. _Stop it…this is insane!_

"It makes sense," he said, pleadingly.

She chewed her lip uneasily. "I don't know, John," she said. "This is an awfully big assumption, don't you think?"

"What if it's not, Olivia?" he said persistently. Worry laced his tone. "What if it's not?"

A beep cut off her words. "Hold on," he said. "There's someone on the other line."

"Just call me back in a few minutes," she said. "I'm going to go get in the shower real quick."

"Fine," he said quickly, and hung up.

The cell phone lying on the double bed rang shrilly. Sean reached for it and flipped it open.

"Yeah," he answered, knowing who it was.

"What are we doing here, man?" a frantic voice on the other end said. "Those guys were cops, Sean…_cops_! We need to get out of here, and I mean now. We're going to have half the NYPD on our asses soon!"

Sean waited for a break in the other man's nervous rambling. "Will you relax?" he snapped. "I've taken care of it…we'll be out of here by noon, alright?"

"Why noon?" the man whined worriedly. "Why not now?"

He looked in the mirror, scowling as he fingered his still-sore jaw. "Because," he said evenly. "I've got one more to do before we go." His eyes narrowed into slits.

"But-"

"Just get your ass over here," he snapped. "You've got ten minutes."

He snapped the phone shut, cutting off the man's protests. Grabbing the keys that were resting on the dresser, he twirled them around his fingers as he picked up the bedside phone.

Elliot was on his way back toward Manhattan when his cell phone jangled. Reaching over, he fumbled around the passenger seat for the instrument that he had tossed there as he got into the truck.

"Stabler," he said, flipping it open.

"Elliot-"

The voice of his brother made his lips curl in disgust. "What do you want?" he asked abruptly.

"I have your apartment keys," Sean said, twirling the keys around again. "I just know realized they aren't mine…they're on the same kind of key chain as yours."

"What?" Elliot asked in irritation. "No you don't. God, Sean….I'm kind of stressed right now, you know? Why the-"

"Yes, I _do_," he insisted. "I threw mine on your desk when I got in this morning and forgot about them after our little chat with the captain. You had yours on there, and I grabbed them after you left, thinking they were mine."

"Look," Elliot snapped in frustration, digging into his pants pocket. "I'm telling you, my key-"

He stopped abruptly as his hand hit empty fabric. "Fuck," he muttered, his eyes sliding closed. He had tossed his keys underneath the stuff on his desk, intending to put it in Olivia's locker, then had gone upstairs and forgotten all about it.

"Are you at the station?" he asked.

"No, my hotel," Sean answered. "I've got a conference call in ten minutes….just come by and get them. I'll leave the door open."

"Whatever," he muttered, hanging up.

He cursed and changed lanes, heading for Chelsea.

"What the fu…."

John couldn't even get the word all the way out. The captain's words echoed in his head, but he couldn't process them.

"Look, John," Cragen said hurriedly. "Right now, we need to get a hold of Sean. I need you to get to the precinct. I'm calling the others-"

"I just talked to Olivia," he interrupted. "I'll call her and Fin. Call Elliot and-"

He trailed off again as he finally put two and two together. "Jesus Christ," he said weakly.

"What?" Cragen asked in surprise.

"Captain, where's Elliot?" he asked quickly, his mind racing.

"I assume he's still at the 3-5," Don answered. "I haven't talked to him."

"Forget Sean," Munch said, standing up quickly. "We need to get him back here right now."

Elliot sighed as he went up the elevator to the seventh floor. He walked down the hall to room 715.

"Sean," he called abruptly before turning the knob.

It was unlocked, as Sean had promised. His brother wasn't there, but he figured he was in a downstairs conference room. Crossing between the two beds, Elliot rummaged through the pile of quarters and tissues on the bedside table.

"Damn it, Sean," he muttered angrily. "Where the hell did you put my keys?"

He went to the dresser and found nothing. Growing angrier with each step, he checked the closet safe and searched around on the floor. Nothing.

"I swear," he mumbled, dropping to his knees to search under a bed. "If that shit-face is…"

His keys were lying just beyond the edge of the comforter, having most likely fallen off of the table.

Shaking his head, Elliot grabbed them. His hand caught the blanket and pulled it back, and he faltered, shaking it off. As he did, he got a glimpse of something pushed far under the bed. Curious, he pulled the blanket back again and bent for a closer look.

His brow furrowed. "What the hell-?"

Sliding on his stomach, he reached in and pulled out the large lump. He brought it closer so he could see what it was. At first, he thought it was a fire extinguisher. Upon closer inspection, though, he saw that it was a blow torch, and beside it was a large mass of chicken wire.

He looked at the items in total bewilderment. "Why the hell would he have a-?"

His blood suddenly froze and he stopped abruptly, pushing himself away from the bed hastily.

"Great police work, _bro_," a voice sneered behind him.

He jumped in surprise, whirling around. A minute later, everything was black.

Sean dropped the crowbar he was holding and watched his brother slam to the floor like a stone. He smirked. "Looks like you lose again, little brother," he said slyly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The phone rang….and rang….and rang. Nothing. Cursing, Don disconnected and redialed.

"Come on, Elliot," he breathed anxiously. "Answer….answer!"

Getting nothing again, he slammed the phone down and chewed on his lip frantically. He had a bad feeling….a really bad feeling. Getting up, he strode out into the squad room and scanned the room anxiously.

"Hey, yo!" he called to the group of detectives stepping out the door. They turned back in surprise.

"Everyone get back in here," he said hurriedly. "Stay put."

The detectives looked at each other in confusion as the captain scurried up the stairs. He peeked into the workout room and lounge, calling everyone there to come down as well.

"What's going on, Captain?" a detective named Clark called out as he came down the stairs again. The others looked at him as well.

Cragen spoke rapidly as he rushed over to Elliot's desk. He growled in frustration as he pushed papers around. "Damn it, Elliot," he mumbled. He looked up at the detectives around him. "Does any one know what hotel Sean is staying at?"

"The Hyatt, right?" another said.

Don shook his head impatiently. "There at least 13 Hyatt hotels in Chelsea…no one knows which one?"

There was a series of shrugs and negative shaking of heads. Huffing, he crossed over to Olivia's desk, in hopes that maybe the paper with the address was there.

"Captain," another detective tried again. "What's going on?"

He paused and looked up to see them all looking at him in alarm. "Sean Stabler has been lying to us," he said. "Chief Hammond never sent him down here….he's not even an ATF agent. He's been lying the entire time."

There was a minute of stunned silence. "Why would he do that?" someone said.

"It's been him all along, guys," Cragen said, desperately. "He's the arsonist."

Fin was lying flat on his back, underneath his car, trying to fix the annoying oil leak that he had discovered a week ago as he left for work. Sweat dripped down his face as he fumbled around the jumble of cables and wires, searching for the spark plug.

"Ah!" he said triumphantly, wrapping his hand around the plug. "Gotcha."

He reached for the toolbox next to him with one hand, keeping his other hand on the plug so as not to lose it again. Rooted blindly through the tools, he discarded several different-sized wrenches until he found the desired one and pulled it out.

Grunting, he tried loosening it. It wasn't budging. "Come on," he groaned, yanking hard on the wrench. Nothing. Letting out a frustrated growl, he withdrew the wrench and wiped his hands on his jeans.

Huffing determinedly, he picked the wrench back up and hooked it around the plug again. Using both hands, he twisted his body as much as the confines under the car would allow and yanked again.

"Yes!" he gasped, feeling the screws loosen finally.

The phone rang from inside then.

"Argh!" he yelled in irritation.

Every time he had made an attempt to fix his car, he got called out. It never failed…the phone would be silent all day, and the minute he was under the car- boom. It starts ringing off the hook.

Sliding quickly out into the sunshine, he got up and wiped his hands on his jeans again. The phone rang two more times. Dropping the wrench, he ran to the side door and up the steps to the house.

He skidded to a stop on the tiled floor, nearly sliding onto his back, and snatched the phone up on the fifth ring.

"Hello?" he said breathlessly.

"Fin," Olivia said, sliding into her car quickly. She started the ignition and hastily fastened her seatbelt, tucking the phone against her shoulder. "Get down to the station right now."

The urgency in her voice told him not to question. Something was wrong. "I'm leaving now," he said, and was surprised when she hung up on him.

By the time Munch had called her back, she had finished her shower and was prepared to focus on making sense of what he had been saying. It had taken her by surprise when he the first thing out of his mouth had been to ask if she had heard from Elliot.

"No," she said in surprise. "He's probably busy with the funeral plans, John. I don't want to-"

He had interrupted her hurriedly, telling her about his conversation with the captain. It had made her skin crawl.

"What?" she exclaimed in disbelief. Her eyes widened. "My God," she murmured.

It crashed down on her at once. It suddenly sense now…Sean's attitude, the circles they had been running around, the fruitless searches…her eyes slid closed in realization. _How could we have missed the signs? _

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. "Oh, no," she whispered, in shock. "John….you don't think….?" She couldn't get the words out. Her face paled.

He was reading her thoughts. "I'm not positive about anything, Olivia," he said. "But my gut is telling me that Elliot could be in real trouble."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Cragen wants us down right now," he continued urgently. "Hurry, Olivia."

"I'm on my way," she said, already slipping on a pair of jeans. She hung up and tore a shirt from its hanger, hastily shoving it over her head. She grabbed her keys and ran.

Glancing down for a brief moment, Olivia pressed the speed dial for her partner's number and waited anxiously as it rang, speeding down the expressway.

"Pick up," she breathed desperately, her heart racing. She was praying that they were all overreacting, that he was at the station and would think they were all nuts. "Pick up, Elliot."

There was no answer. Tossing the phone aside, she pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

A slicing pain shot through his skull the minute Elliot cracked his eyes open. Grimacing, he quickly shut them again.

The room was tilting crazily, making him sick to his stomach, as he tried to climb out of the broken whirlwind of confusion. What the hell was going on?

Voices. He could hear the faint sound of talking, but couldn't make out what was being said. He struggled to open his eyes again, feeling like his eyelids weighed fifty pounds.

A soft moan made the red-haired man turn his head around and stare at the limp form sprawled on the floor by his feet.

"Hey, he's awake," Elliot heard an unfamiliar voice say. A sharp pain in his ribs made him groan loudly in surprise.

The man kicked him in the side as Sean came out of the bathroom. He crouched down next to his brother and watched as his eyelids fluttered. Blue eyes looked at him, wobbly with disorientation. He reached over and slapped him roughly.

Elliot flinched at the stinging on his face, still trying to focus his eyes. Sean waited until he saw the recognition flood his brother's eyes. He grinned.

"What-?" Elliot croaked out, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. His head throbbed, and he slid his eyes shut tiredly again.

"No, no," Sean said harshly. He pinched Elliot's face hard enough for his eyes to fly open in surprise and pain. "Nap time's over."

Sean was easily able to pull his limp form forward. He hoisted him up over one shoulder and picked up the coil of chicken wire, carrying him across the room.

He sat him against the desk. Elliot slumped forward when he hit the ground, so weak that it surprised him. God, he had one hell of a headache. He felt Sean pull his left wrist forward.

"Sean," he mumbled incoherently. "What are-?"

The sharp pain slicing through his flesh woke him up in an instant.

"OW!" he yelped, sitting up straight.

His arm was yanked behind him painfully as Sean wrapped the wire tightly around his wrist.

He immediately struck at him with his right fist defensively and tried to twist his body away from him, but his brother was quicker. Sean grabbed his other hand and wrenched it behind his back, quickly coiling chicken wire around it as well. Then he wrapped more wire around both of his hands, binding them together.

The knifing pain made tears spring to his eyes, and he desperately tried to ease it, wiggling around desperately. When he couldn't, Elliot glared at his brother hatefully.

"You prick!" he snarled. "When I get my hands on you-"

"Oh, that doesn't look very likely, Squirt," Sean said cockily, twisting the wire painfully tighter. He turned his head to speak to his companion. "Hey, hand me the cuffs."

The man tossed him a pair of handcuffs that were lying on the bed. Elliot watched in panic as his brother began looping one of the cuffs through the wire that bound his hands together.

"What happened to you, Sean?" he asked desperately. "What would make you become a felon?"

Sean paused as he clicked the handcuff shut. Elliot saw a flicker in his brother's eyes that, for the briefest of moments, looked like pain. But it vanished just as quickly.

"Well, what can I say?" he said, his face deadly serious. "Some people are just born with the bad seed."

The coldness in Sean's eyes made Elliot shiver involuntarily, and it was at that moment that he realized that he was looking into the eyes of a stranger. The brother he had grown up with was nowhere to be found.

Concentrating on his task again, Sean took the other handcuff and slipped it around the slim wooden bar on the side of the desk, forcing Elliot's hands to jerk behind him in an awkward upright position. He snapped it shut and tightened it, making the wire jerk taut.

Elliot yanked against the wire as hard as he could and it didn't even move. Fire sliced through his wrists again and he hissed painfully.

Sean saw the fear glimmering in his little brother's eyes, and it made him smile. He got to his feet and walked toward the bed. The other man, who had been silent up to this point, grinned and came over to Elliot.

"So, you're the famous detective I've heard so much about," he said in amusement, standing over him. He kicked at Elliot's foot, and he wrenched it away with a glare. "Looks like you're a pretty shitty one, huh?"

"Fuck you," Elliot spat out angrily. "Go to hell."

The man got a mock-surprised look on his face. "What did you say to me?" he asked, putting a hand over his heart. "That hurts." He turned his head toward Sean. "Hey…did you hear what he just said to me?"

"Yeah, well," Sean said, from where he stood packing. "He's always had a smart mouth."

He whipped back around, continuing to mock him. "Really?" he said. He crouched down in front of him. "That true?"

A sadistic glint flashed in his eye, and the man reached into his pocket, withdrawing a bandanna. Elliot jumped when he suddenly shot forward and pressed his weight against him. He kicked out in an attempt to get him off, but the red-haired man paid no attention.

Elliot felt his head jerk back painfully, and the man jammed the cloth into his mouth, pulling it between his teeth. He gagged when the fabric touched the back of his throat. The man reached behind him and tied it tightly to the back of his neck before stepping back, grinning.

"How do you like that?" he crowed, getting in Elliot's face. "Bet you won't have such a smart mouth now, will ya?"

Sean looked over at them, laughing when he saw what his friend had done. "Come on, man," he said, chuckling. "We have to get going."

The man got up and went back to what he had been doing.

Elliot was struggling and gagging wretchedly every time he took a breath. He tossed his head wildly, trying to get the gag off, and choked again. He whimpered in panic.

They ignored the sounds at first, but their nerves were grating quickly. The two men exchanged an annoyed look.

"You might as well quit it before you make yourself puke," Sean said in disgust, looking at him. "It will only get worse the more you struggle."

Ignoring him, Elliot continued fighting against the gag. The next attempt made vomit rise up the back of his throat quickly. He choked again, tears springing up involuntarily at the panicky sensation, and he spit against the cloth.

Sean rolled his eyes. "I told you." He looked in disgust at the pathetic form of his brother, gasping and watery-eyed.

Swallowing hard, Elliot stopped fighting and sat still, realizing he was trapped.

"I haven't been able to reach Elliot," was the first thing Olivia said when she walked through the doors. "I've been trying for twenty minutes."

Don looked up at her, startled at her arrival. "I called Tom Clancy from the 3-5," he said. He paused when he saw John and Fin walking towards the doors quickly. "He says Elliot left there almost an hour ago."

John's expression was worried as he caught the tail-end of their conversation. "He should be back by now," he said. "Did you try his house?"

"We tried that," spoke up a detective named Johnson, who was standing beside Elliot's desk. He picked up the phone again. "We called his ex-wife, his oldest daughter, neighbors…no one knows where he is."

"It's Sean, guys," Fin said in anger. "It's _got_ to be. Find him and we'll almost certainly find Elliot."

Olivia's face was panicked as she looked at Don.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with you on that one, Fin," he said. "So we have got to find Sean right now." He looked to the trio. "Do any of you know where his hotel is?"

His heart sank at the blank looks he received. They didn't have a clue.

Don squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, hating the helplessness he felt. It was something he wasn't used to. "Forget it," he said quickly. "We're not just going to sit here." He quickly formulated a plan in his mind.

"Alright," he said finally. "We're going to turn this city upside down if that's what it takes." The detectives recognized the authoritative note in his voice and instantly became alert. "I want everyone back in the same teams as the other night…half go to the areas we were in during the stakeout, just in case. The other half is going to Chelsea…look for every Hyatt hotel on the map."

Olivia had a preoccupied look on her face, and didn't notice when the captain stopped speaking. John looked at her.

"Let's go, Olivia," he said urgently, shaking her arm.

She jumped, realizing the others were leaving. The three men looked at her in confusion as she dashed to Elliot's desk and opened a drawer.

"What are you doing?" Cragen asked, bewildered. "Come on! We don't have time-"

"Those notes that Sean took from the ATF meeting," she said abruptly, digging frantically into the mess of papers and files. "Elliot put them in his desk."

The captain shook his head in irritation. "Olivia, they don't matter!" he said. "He was lying, remember?" He walked to her quickly and gripped her arm gently. "We _have_ to get moving!"

"No!" she yelled, jerking her arm away. Don looked at her in shock. She turned and continued digging madly. "Sean printed them out on hotel paper…it's got the address on the letterhead."

His eyes widened. Munch and Fin jumped next to her and began digging as well.

"Here!" Fin cried, holding up the sheets of paper. They looked up at him anxiously. He read the letterhead quickly. "Hyatt Grand Hotel….1265 Gerard Avenue."

"Go," Don said immediately, snatching the paper from him. "Go now!"

The three of them took off, with Munch hesitating long enough to grab his car keys off the desk.

Cragen ran back to his office and dialed the dispatcher. "Dispatch, this is Captain Cragen from the 1-6," he said. "Have all units on frequency C head to 1265 Gerard Avenue in Chelsea _right now_."

"Copy that, Captain," a woman answered.

He dropped the phone on the desk, grabbed his own keys, and bolted.

"Alright," Sean said, zipping the bag. "You got everything?" He checked his watch anxiously.

His red-haired companion checked his bag one more time, reaching on the nightstand to scoop up a handful of change and shove it in his pocket. "Yep," he confirmed.

He looked to Sean for confirmation. "You know what to do," Sean said to him. "Give me five minutes…meet me at the back entrance."

"You got it," the man said. He picked up his bag and opened the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Sean bent down on one knee beside the bed and pulled out the blow torch. He flipped the safety tab and unhooked the screw.

Elliot's eyes widened in panic when he saw what his brother was doing and he began struggling to make as much noise as he could, jerking against the wire frantically.

Hearing the muffled noises, Sean looked over at him. He smiled. "What's that?" he said, in a mocking tone. He walked over to Elliot. "I can't understand a word you're saying." He laughed, but made no move to remove the gag.

In a split second, though, his face turned hard. Elliot watched him turn the blow torch on, and terror shot through him when the blue flame burst out. Eyeing him, Sean's lips curled up into a sick smile.

He jerked the torch towards Elliot, the flame dancing inches away from his face. He jerked his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the heat next to his right cheek. His frightened whimper made his brother laugh again.

He brought the torch back up, and Elliot turned his face back hesitantly when the heat was gone. Sean began walking toward the bed.

"Oh, don't worry," he said. "That wasn't even a taste of what you're going to be feeling."

Elliot's eyes bugged out when Sean aimed the torch at the bed and the blanket ignited. The small flame quickly grew, spreading over the pillows and to the headboard.

He strolled casually around the bed, aiming at random spots on the wall and igniting them. He stepped around his brother and ignited the curtains next to his head. Elliot began shaking in terror.

Sean looked around thoughtfully and ignited the bathroom door before throwing the torch inside. He hurried back to where he had dropped his bag beside the bed and grabbed it.

Elliot cried out again, and he turned back, coming over to him. The terror on his face was visible and his eyes were pleading as he crouched in front of him.

"Don't take it personally, Elliot," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the growing flames around them. "I just can't leave any witnesses." He kissed his brother's cheek chastely, grinned, and stood again.

Grabbing his bag, Sean jumped over the burning spot on the carpet and opened the door, shutting and locking it behind him. The wood was already hot against his hand as the crackling became louder from inside. Looking around quickly, he hurried toward the fire escape. He had exactly five minutes before the alarms would go off.

Elliot looked around, in a panic. In a matter of mere seconds, three-quarters of the room were covered in flames and had eaten up everything from the walls to the carpet. The curtains beside him had melted and shriveled, flames jumping to the desk above him.

He felt blood seeping between his fingers as he jerked against the wires. He gagged hard, but kept trying to scream, sobbing in terror. No one was going to be able to hear him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Fire engines were blocking the hotel entrance. Munch steered the sedan onto a small patch of grass and parked with a screech, throwing the door open. He took off running toward the building with the other two hot on his heels.

Olivia's heart was in her throat as she looked up at the building. Thick smoke curled out of a window on the sixth floor. _God…please don't let him be in there!_

They sprinted toward the entrance. Firefighters blocked the doors, and immediately stopped them.

"You folks get back!" one of them yelled quickly. "No one is allowed inside the building."

Firefighters wearing helmets and fire suits ran inside. John pulled out his badge quickly. "We need to get in there, now," he said anxiously. "There's an officer inside."

"Everyone is being evacuated," the man said. "We're getting them out as quickly as we can, sir. Now please, step back!" He grabbed his arm and began dragging him toward the parking lot where the hotel guests were standing.

Olivia felt herself being pulled toward the grass by another firefighter. They deposited the three of them with the other people and turned back toward the building again. Olivia looked at the other two anxiously. "We have to get in there!" she cried.

John looked around frantically. Something around the side of building caught his eye. "Guys!" he shouted, getting their attention. "Come on!" He took off running.

The heat was scorching every inch of Elliot's body. Smoke was so thick that it blanketed the room in darkness. Flames surrounded him from all sides; he could feel it creeping up closer. Sobbing hysterically, he curled his legs up against his body as best he could, trying desperately to escape being burned.

He could hear the faint piercing of the fire alarms over the crackling of the flames, and the footsteps of people in rooms around him going for safety. The gag was still choking him every time he tried to scream out.

The window behind him suddenly shattered from the intense pressure. He ducked his head frantically as shards of glass sprayed all over his body. Flames immediately devoured the wall where the window had just been, beginning to eat away at the desk.

Four squad cars pulled up across the street and the detectives ran toward the hotel. Captain Cragen squealed to a stop beside John's car and jumped out.

Running ahead of them, he got to the parking lot first and looked around frantically. He didn't see the three of them anywhere. A knot formed in his stomach and he whirled around, heading for the other side.

A firefighter stopped him as he ran. "Sir, you need to get back," he said urgently. "It's not safe."

"Is there anyone on the other side?" he asked quickly.

The man shook his head. "Everyone is being evacuated to the parking lot," he said, pointing back where he had been.

"I can't find three of my detectives," he insisted. "You're sure there's no one in the back?"

"I'm positive, sir!" the man cried impatiently. "Now _please…_get back!"

A sudden shattering noise made them both jump. Looking up, Don saw a window break and smoke come pouring out.

His stomach dropped to his knees. "Christ," he whispered.

"Captain!"

Someone yelling his name made him turn around. A group of detectives was sprinting toward him.

"What?" he said quickly. "What's wrong?"

One of them pointed behind him. When he turned around, he saw Sean Stabler getting into a red Ford Focus parked toward the back.

"_Shit!_" he exclaimed.

A few were trying to run after the car. The rest stopped and looked at Don frantically.

"Go!" he screamed at them. "Go get him!"

A large group of detectives took off in the other direction toward their cars.

Munch skidded to a stop at the side of the building and reached up for the collapsible stairs that served as a help's entrance. Fin hurried to help him pull and steady them. Their footsteps clanged loudly as the three of them thundered up.

Olivia's lungs burned and her calves ached, but she kept going. _Dear God…let us be wrong,_ she begged again. Tears welled in her eyes._ Please don't let him be in there!_

"What the hell-?"

A loud clanking made one firefighter run toward the back of the building. His eyes widened when he saw three people running up the stairs.

"Hey!" he shouted desperately. "What are you doing? You're going the wrong way!"

They didn't appear to have heard him. He ran quickly around to the front again. "There's some more back here!" he yelled urgently, and turned back again. The three closest to him ran to help.

Hearing the commotion, Don ran back there as well. His gut was churning. He knew it was his three detectives…it had to be.

Reaching the sixth level, John leapt off of the stairs and began running down the steel grates that served as rain gutters for the building. He heard Olivia and Fin only steps behind. The smoke ahead told them they were going in the right direction.

"Damn it!" Sean exclaimed, hearing sirens behind them. "Go, GO!"

The other man shifted the car into third gear and floored the accelerator. He blew through the red light ahead of them. Sean gripped the door handle as they narrowly missed a speeding truck.

There was a screech of tires and an explosion of metal as one squad car was creamed by the oncoming truck. It spun around with the impact and crashed into a nearby telephone pole.

Two squad cars following it immediately stopped. The last one kept giving chase. Traffic stopped abruptly, some cars swerving to avoid the wreck. Three detectives from one car sprinted toward the crushed vehicle, calling for their colleagues frantically, while the ones from the other car headed for the truck.

The car chasing after the Focus swerved into the other lane, quickly passing traffic while trying to keep the red car in sight. Most people pulled to the side to let them pass, but there were some that were being either ignorant or defiant and refusing to move out of the way.

"All units…suspect on the run heading north on Highway 12….red Ford Focus," the detective driving said into his radio. "Repeat, all units be advised of a suspect on the run….Highway 12 heading north, over."

"Turn here," Sean said quickly, twisting around to see where the cop car was.

The man made an expert 360 degree turn in the other direction and zoomed into a nearby parking garage. They sighed in relief when the sirens zoomed past them.

The detective looked around frantically. "I lost him," he shouted into the radio. "Suspect no longer visible!" He threw the radio down and cursed, reversing to turn around. He zoomed back the way he came, hoping they hadn't gotten away.

Skidding to a stop outside of the broken window, Olivia jumped inside quickly. The others were about to follow when a huge rush of fire came blowing out into the air.

"Watch it!" Fin yelled.

He and John flattened themselves against the side of the building, narrowly avoiding the flames. Olivia threw herself face first on the carpet. She could feel the heat of the fire as it raged right above her. Terrified, she covered her head and curled into a ball.

The fire was quickly sucked back inside. John pushed away from the brick wall and jumped down into the room. Fin mimicked his movements.

"Olivia!" Munch yelled. He bent down and lifted her to her feet, holding her upright. "You alright?"

She had a dazed look on her face. Blinking, she realized that she hadn't been burned. "Yeah," she choked out shakily. "I'm okay. I'm okay." Pushing away from him, she slowly steadied herself.

The three of them were huddled next to the ruined window, shrinking away from the flames raging around them. Fin was struggling not to let the others see how scared he was. His heart was hammering so hard that he thought for sure they would be able to hear it.

He took a tentative step to his left and jumped back again quickly when he saw more flames shooting up from the ground. "Shit!" he exclaimed, nearly barreling into his partner.

John looked around in a panic as he clambered closer to the window. The fire was huge and surrounded almost every available inch space. They had to get out of there right now.

"Come on," he said urgently, beginning to pull Olivia toward the window. "We can't stay here."

"No- John!" she protested, jerking away from him. "We have to find Elliot!"

He grabbed her shoulders. "Are you _insane?_" he cried. "There's no way anyone could survive this…now, come on! We have to leave _now_!"

In the midst of their arguing, an unfamiliar noise caught Fin's attention. He froze.

"I'm not leaving," she yelled. "He has to be-"

"Guys, guys!" Fin pushed between them quickly, his head snapped to attention. He waved his hand frantically. "Listen!"

They stopped and went silent. Amidst the crackling of the flames around them, another noise suddenly became audible: muffled whimpers.

Olivia's eyes widened. "Elliot!" she called out.

She immediately began feeling her way around. John and Fin began mirroring her movements. They gingerly circled around the small space, trying to locate where the noises were coming from while at the same time trying to stay clear of the flames.

Getting down on the carpet, she began crawling on her elbows, her eyes stinging from the smoke. The whimpers sounded close. As she fumbled around, her hand suddenly came in contact with something soft. Gasping, she clutched it frantically and yanked it to her face.

Cotton.

Continuing to pull the material to her, she felt around and brushed across smooth skin.

She clawed quickly at the cotton, pulling it forward until she suddenly was face to face with Elliot.

Her eyes widened and she nearly let go. He was crying and looked absolutely terrified.

"Guys!" she screamed, scrambling to her knees. She took his face in her hands, unable to see any other part of him.

He was choking, his eyes wide as he tried as hard as he could to cry out. Tears coursed down her face as she tugged on the gag. She couldn't get it loose.

Fin got next to her. "I can't get it off," she sobbed. Elliot suddenly yelped at her next attempt and she quickly took her hand away.

John was reaching around behind Elliot, looking for whatever was binding him to the desk. He encountered the wires and began trying to untwist the complicated coils.

Elliot yelped again in agony, and she nearly lost it. "Hold on, Elliot," she gasped, trying to get control of her tears. "Just hang on."

A sudden cracking noise startled all of them. John jumped, dropping the coils in his hand.

A sudden surge of déjà vu ran through Olivia's veins and she froze. Looking up, her eyes widened when she saw a huge chunk of the ceiling fall towards them.

Scrambling around Fin, she screamed out "Get _down!"_ and threw herself over Elliot, covering him with her body.

John and Fin dropped to the ground a second before a flaming piece of plaster crashed on to the desk.

Throwing his head up, Munch looked around. The fire was going to devour them. Getting to his feet, he ran over to the side of the desk and began yanking on the wire again.

Elliot cried out in pain, and John felt his heart shattering, but he kept going. Fin got next to him quickly and tried to help him, but neither could get his hands free.

"We have to get help," Fin gasped painfully. "There's no way we can do this."

He met the anguished eyes of his partner. They both knew that by the time they reached any of the firefighters, Elliot was going to be dead. John's eyes filled with helpless tears.

"Olivia," he croaked.

She was still covering her partner, gripping him so tightly that her knuckles were white. He whimpered.

"No," she sobbed. "I'm not leaving him!"

All of the sudden, John was yanked upward. He yelled in surprise, and then he was on his back, blinking up at the sunlight.

"What the he-?" he cried, jumping up.

A man in a fire suit pulled his partner out in the same abrupt fashion before jumping through the window.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and clutched Elliot tighter, desperately praying that he wouldn't feel it when the flames closed in on them.

A cracking sound next to her head almost made her pass out. Looking to her left, she saw a firefighter chopping at the desk with an ax.

A minute later, she was being pulled away from Elliot.

"What-?" she cried, reaching desperately for him.

"Come on, miss," a man's voice said urgently. "I've got you."

The other firefighter quickly slid the handcuff off of the wooden bar and lifted Elliot up. "I've got him!" he shouted. "Let's get out of here."

Olivia's form came flying up out of the window. She was screaming and flailing in the grip of the firefighter.

"Let go of me!" she screamed. "I can't leave him!"

"Liv!" Fin cried, reaching down to grab her. "Liv, they've got him! They've got him!"

John quickly yanked her up as she whipped her head around. A firefighter was coming out with Elliot draped over his shoulder.

She sighed in relief. A second later, she was being pulled down the steel gutters so quickly that she almost fell.

Don was sprinting up the stairs as fast as he could. He made it past the fourth floor when Fin suddenly plowed into him. John was at his heels, pulling Olivia with him.

"Oh, thank God!" he cried. "Guys-"

"RUN!" came a shout from behind them. A firefighter began pushing them. "The building is going to ignite any second!"

Turning around, Don ran back down the way he had come.

Olivia felt herself flying through the air as John yanked her toward the ground. She lost her balance and crashed onto the concrete on her back.

She felt the other two landing beside her and looked up to see two more firefighters scurry off of the fire escape. A minute later, she heard a gigantic whoosh.

"Guys!" the captain yelled, getting to his feet quickly. He hurried over to them. "Are you alright?"

John was lying flat, his hands clenched, breathing hard. It took him a minute to respond past the shock he felt.

"Yeah," he stuttered. "I-I think so."

Fin dropped his head into his hands and breathed a huge sigh of relief. That had been _way_ too close.

Olivia blinked rapidly, her body shaking. With trembling hands, she felt for her face quickly. Her eyes slid closed as tears slipped involuntarily down her cheeks. She was alive…she was still alive.

The captain was so busy making sure that they were alright that he failed to notice that the firefighters were coming towards them. They gently placed Elliot down on the concrete. The three detectives scrambled to their feet as the captain rushed over to him.

The firefighters didn't even get a chance to position themselves around Elliot before Olivia was flying at them and pushing her way past. She dropped to the ground beside him, gasping frantically for breath.

The tears she had been fighting came out as Olivia began hurriedly pulling at the knot at the back of his neck. Her fingers trembled as she listened to his intensifying whimpers. "Hold on, Elliot," she gasped tearfully. "It's alright."

Seeing her working on the gag, the three men started on his hands.

"Hold him up," Don directed.

John gripped Elliot's shoulders and waited for Fin to wrap his arms around his waist. "Ready?"

Fin nodded. Together, they lifted their friend up a few inches and turned him to give the captain better access to his bonds. Cragen eyed the tangled mass of wire and hesitantly began untwisting it.

Elliot moaned tearfully, and he jumped, pulling his hand back. He rocked back on his heels and turned his head. "Somebody get me wire cutters!" he screamed as loud as he could.

The firefighters around them instantly got to their feet. Two of them ran back toward the fire truck.

Olivia sighed in relief when she was finally able to work through the knot in the bandanna. Swiftly untying it, she took it in her hands and pulled it out of her partner's mouth. She winced when Elliot choked and gagged loudly, gasping.

"I'm sorry," she said tearfully, quickly removing all of the material and tossing it aside. "Here, baby….here we go. It's gone. It's gone."

He dry heaved a few times in panic before gulping in breaths frantically. As soon as he could breathe normally again, he started to weep hysterically. Olivia quickly wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly, breaking down herself.

The firefighters returned with the tool and handed it to the captain. After a few tries, Don was able to fit it around the slender wire. It gave instantly, and he was able to pull it gently away. He winced when he saw Elliot's hands and wrists covered in blood.

Keeping his grip on Elliot's waist, Fin maneuvered him so that he was sitting up. He moved quickly and took over for John, holding his shoulders so that he wouldn't fall back.

Olivia felt his arms flying forward a minute before she was almost tackled to the ground. He clutched her middle tightly, shaking and crying uncontrollably. She nodded quickly at Fin before leaning forward and reaching around him.

Getting the message, he let go of Elliot's shoulders when she pulled him gently forward. She continued to pull him to her until he was in her lap and wrapped him in a warm hug. Getting her balance, she knelt down and sat on the concrete.

Looking up at the people gathered around them, she jerked her head discreetly and sent a pleading look to the firefighters. They got the message, nodding at her sympathetically and standing.

"Come on, guys," one said. "Let's get the hose rolled up."

Olivia met the eyes of the captain, Fin, and Munch as the group of firefighters moved away. They were each asking her silently if she needed any help. She gave them a warm smile of thanks and shook her head slightly. They nodded and moved off as well, heading back toward the front of the hotel.

Once they were alone, she turned her focus back to her partner. He had his face pressed into her abdomen, hidden from her view, and she could feel him sobbing. Her shirt was beginning to soak from his tears. She moved her arms to circle his back and began rubbing slowly, dropping her face so that he could hear her.

"It's alright, Elliot," she soothed quietly. She stroked through his hair, feeling him shiver. "You're okay."

He gulped in tearful breaths as he cried. Olivia began swaying him gently back and forth, keeping up the gentle assurances.

"You're fine, baby," she said. "I've got you. You're just fine."

"I thought-I thought…" He hiccupped and sobbed as she rocked him, struggling to complete the sentence. "I thought I was dead." He trembled so badly that he almost couldn't sit still. Elliot had never been so afraid in his entire life, and didn't know how to process the feeling.

She didn't blame him a bit for his reaction….the fraction of a minute she had been near that fire had terrified her to the very core. Rubbing circles all over his back, Olivia continued to soothingly rock him and make calming sounds in attempt to shush his cries.

The sound of sirens drew the attention of the three men away from watching the firefighters continue to try controlling the fire. Turning away, they saw two squad cars pull in and five detectives start running towards them.

"Did you get him?" the captain immediately asked, hurrying to meet them with John and Fin on his heels. "Where is he?"

The lead detective stopped to catch his breath, shaking his head. "No," he said breathlessly. "We lost him."

"What?" Fin exploded. "Where did he go?"

"How did he get away?" John said almost in the same breath.

"No…guys," the detective struggled to say, having to stop and gasp for breath. "It's not-"

"What happened?" Don asked, struggling to keep his head.

"Guys!" he shouted, interrupting them. "Listen, there's a bigger problem right now. There was an accident…Jones and Bill are on being taken to the hospital."

The captain's eyes widened and the other two stopped speaking abruptly. "What happened?" he asked in trepidation. "Are they okay?"

Blowing out a breath, he nodded. "We chased Sean through a red light and they got clipped by a truck," he said. "But they're alright, just a little banged up."

"Good," Don said in relief, but his mind was racing trying to figure out what his next move could be.

Another detective came up beside him with a worried expression. "Did Elliot get out alright?" he asked in concern, looking past Don at the burning hotel. "Is he okay?"

"He's alright," the captain hastened to assure. "We got to him in time."

Looks of relief passed all of their faces. John looked at him anxiously. "Sean is getting a head start," he said. "We'll lose him if he makes it to Jersey."

They all looked to the captain frantically. His eyes hardened with resolve. "That's not going to happen," he said. "That bastard is ours." Turning on his heel, he began striding back towards the hotel.

A firefighter had joined Olivia, and was kneeling next to her as Don approached. He saw the man take Elliot from her arms and carry him toward an ambulance parked nearby. She got to her feet with wobbly legs and reached down to brush the gravel from her knees.

"Olivia," he called as she started to follow after them.

She turned around. Behind her, the captain saw the man sit Elliot down on the back of the ambulance. He reached for a medical supply kit and began tending to the wounds on his hands.

"Captain," she said, glancing quickly back toward her partner. "What's going on? Did they arrest Sean?"

"No, he ran," Cragen said. "They think he's headed for New Jersey."

Disbelief flashed in her eyes, followed quickly by fury. "You'd better get going then," she said. "Don't let him get away, Captain."

He nodded. "We are," he assured. "I just wanted to make sure you guys are alright. Will you be okay with him or do you want me to stay? Do you need anything?"

She waved her hand quickly. "No, no," she insisted. "Go, sir. I'm fine. Go after Sean…I've got it under control."

He smiled. "I know," he said. "You always do, Olivia."

She blushed slightly but returned his smile. "Go," she repeated. "Please…please get him."

He nodded. "You can make bet on it," he said firmly. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll call you when we catch him. Take care of yourself….and Elliot."

"Always, Captain," she responded. "Be careful."

"You got it," he said.

Turning around again, he ran back toward the cars. The others were already waiting with engines running. Getting inside, he put his seatbelt on quickly and rolled down his window.

"Let's go!" he yelled, flipping on the flashing lights.

Gravel flew up and sirens blared as the cars tore out of the parking lot.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"Damn it!"

The driver of the Ford Focus screeched out of the parking garage and headed for the interstate. He threw a disgusted look at the passenger.

"I _told_ you this was a bad idea," he growled, glaring at Sean. "If we had gone with _my_ original plan, we would be in Jersey already…now we've got the cops to deal with."

"Would you shut up?" Sean snapped angrily. "These idiots couldn't find their butts if the directions were printed on both hands."

"Why the hell did you have to get your stupid little brother involved?" his friend persisted. "Everything was going great until you mentioned going to Manhattan."

Sean threw up his hands in irritation. "You're as stupid as they are!" he exclaimed. He shook his head and fixed his friend with an impatient look. "He's the reason I _came_ in the first place…no one crosses Sean Stabler and gets away with it."

A gloating look crossed his face. "I'd say he learned his lesson…what do you think?"

The red-haired man threw back his head and laughed. "Sure," he chuckled. "I'm sure in the….oh…." He shrugged carelessly. "Twenty seconds before he became barbeque meat, he learned a valuable lesson."

"Alright," the female EMT said kindly, snipping away the last of the gauze. "How's that? Feel any pain?"

Elliot lifted his thickly-bandaged hand and wiggled his fingers. "Nope," he said, smiling in appreciation at her. The relief was overwhelming. "I can barely feel this." He wiggled his fingers again to demonstrate. "Thanks."

She returned his smile. "You're welcome," she replied, slipping a small tube into the hand he was holding out. "I put enough ointment on your hands to get you through the night, but come morning you're going to want more…trust me."

He looked at the tube of antibiotic numbing cream that she had given him. It had hurt like hell when she had applied it to the deep cuts on his hands and wrists, but had started to work instantly. The only downside was that now his hands felt twelve sizes too large and tingled like he had slept on them…but it beat the pain of before.

"Change the dressings each time you put more cream on," she continued, glancing up as Olivia approached. "It's going to be difficult doing it yourself…I'd recommend getting some assistance."

She winked at Olivia before speaking to him again. "It's going to take about a week before those blisters heal, so don't take those bandages off until then, got it?"

He nodded, oblivious to Olivia's presence behind him. "Yep," he confirmed. "Got it."

She smiled again. "Then that's my cue," she said, clearing away the supplies.

"Thank you," Olivia said, startling Elliot. He whipped his head around.

"No problem," she said. She reached into her pocket and extracted a small wrapped lollipop. "And this is for you," she said, laughter in her voice. "For being a good boy."

He grinned and took it from her dutifully. "Yeah, well…" He shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

"Please," Olivia interrupted playfully. "His head doesn't need to get any bigger."

He glared at her, making both women laugh. He hopped down off of the back of the ambulance as the EMT walked around to the passenger side.

Olivia was pleased to see his spirits up. He had still been quite upset while the paramedics were trying to check him over, and it had taken her twenty minutes and a lot of hugs to convince him to let them treat his wounds.

He lifted his hands awkwardly and stared at them with distaste. "Well, this is attractive," he said dryly. "I look like I'm wearing Mickey Mouse gloves."

She smiled. "Well, look on the bright side," she said. "At least now-"

Elliot had been looking around, and interrupted her suddenly. "Where is everybody?"

She paused, startled. "Going after Sean," she replied.

His eyes darkened. "You got a car here?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"No," she replied. "I rode with Munch."

"Mine's here," he said abruptly. "Come on." He began running toward the parking lot, and she had no choice but to follow after him.

"Hold on," she protested, reaching out to stop him. "Elliot, everyone is going after him…they've got every local police force on lookout, too."

"What's your point?" he asked, exasperated.

She shrugged helplessly. "After what just happened…." She trailed off uncomfortably, not knowing how to convey her thoughts into words.

"He tried to kill me, Olivia," he said. "He killed my ex-partner, eleven good men, and a female agent." The expression on his face was cool, calculated malice. "If anyone is taking Sean down….it's going to me."

Olivia shook her head, knowing that not even she could break past his resolve when he set his mind to it. By the looks of it, he was already planning what he was going to do when he caught up to his brother.

"Give me your keys," she said finally, holding her hand out. He looked at her in surprise. "There's no way you can drive like that," she said in exasperation, gesturing to his hands. "Give me your keys."

He fumbled awkwardly into his pocket and tossed the set to her. "Come on," he repeated, running again. This time she matched him stride for stride.

Fin whipped the sedan around a tight curve and continued to speed through the sparse woodland. Cragen had instructed them all to split up and cover as many different routes as they could think of. After cruising through the nearby town, he and Munch had headed up towards the more secluded areas of Chelsea, just in case.

"Do you even know where we are?" Munch asked, looking out the windshield.

"No," he replied. "Who cares? Just yell if you see the car."

John looked around incredulously. Theirs was the only vehicle in sight in either direction. Nothing was around except green fields, with an occasional lone house every few miles.

He sighed and leaned against the window.

"Cow," he said, as they passed a pasture.

Fin looked at him in irritated disgust, but didn't say anything.

Silence. "Another cow," he said after a minute.

His partner sucked in a loud breath and smacked the steering wheel. "Man, shut up!" he said finally.

"How can I yell about the car if I shut up?" John asked in amusement, unable to resist.

The murderous glare his partner turned on him made him laugh. "Sorry," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. Keep looking."

"Captain Cragen." The static of the radio drew Don's attention. "This is Captain Sam Cromwell from the 9th precinct in Staten Island."

Without taking his eyes from the surrounding area, the captain picked up the radio. "This is Don Cragen," he replied. "Go ahead, Captain."

The marked squad cars were parked in front of the entrance to the Staten Island Bridge, forming a barricade. Cromwell was standing up just outside of his open car door with the radio stretching out from the dashboard, scanning the area around them.

"We're in position by the bridge," he said. "I've got guys covering both the north and south entrances and exits."

"Good," Don replied. "No one has reported a visual yet, so stay on your toes."

"You got it," Cromwell said.

Replacing the radio, Cragen gripped the steering wheel and continued trolling the streets beside the Port Jefferson boat ramp in Centerport, forty miles from the hotel they had started from. Port authority had been alerted and had all of the ferry docks temporarily closed until Sean was caught.

"Captain." The radio sounded again, and he was surprised when he recognized Elliot's voice. He quickly grabbed the radio again.

"Elliot," he said. "Where are you?"

Elliot glanced out of the passenger side window as they flew down the interstate. "Somewhere between Chelsea and Queens," he estimated. "We just got on the interstate."

"Ask him where the others are," Olivia said quickly. "I have no idea where I'm going."

"Which way did you guys go?" he asked.

"I split everyone up, Elliot," Don responded. "Munch and Fin are up in northern Chelsea, and I'm down here in Centerport. Staten Island has been barricaded and three teams are manning the Jersey Turnpike….you guys circle the interstate. They're in a red Ford Focus."

"License plates?" he asked.

Don picked up the notepad from the seat next to him and read off the numbers that had been given to him. "T34-YXCD. New York plates."

"Alright," he confirmed. "We're on it."

Elliot reached over and replaced the portable radio he had in his truck, sitting back uneasily.

Olivia wasn't used to driving an SUV, and had to admit that she liked the smooth way his Explorer drove. It smelled like leather and a hint of Elliot's favorite cologne, a comforting combination.

He had a conflicted expression on his face, which she noticed when she glanced at him. "What?" she asked, turning her head to look at him fully.

He sucked thoughtfully on his lip. "That's not Sean's car," he said after a minute. "I didn't see his truck in the parking lot when I got to the hotel, either."

She tried to follow his train of thought. "You think he's going to pick up his truck before he leaves?"

Elliot went quiet. "I don't know," he said finally. "Something doesn't seem right."

He stopped talking, appearing to be thinking hard. Olivia turned back to the road.

_Why would he ditch his truck? _Elliot's stomach was a ball of nervous tension.It just didn't add up. His brother had made such a huge deal out of driving whenever they had been together….for some reason he had insisted on taking his truck to every place they had gone since he had arrived.

He bit his lip in frustration. _So…where is it now?_

"Yo!"

The driver of the Focus jumped at Sean's unexpected outburst and whipped his head toward him.

Sean's eyes were gleaming as he recognized their surroundings. He leaned forward eagerly. "Turn here."

"Huh?" the other man asked, startled. He looked at him in confusion.

Sean looked at him in irritation. "Turn, dumbass!" he cried. He pointed. "Here, now!"

Still looking confused, the driver nonetheless took the exit he was pointing to.

He nodded in satisfaction as he sat back. "Take this road for about ten miles," he said with a knowing smile.

"How's it going, John?" Olivia glanced at the radio, hearing the captain come over the frequency. "Anything?"

"Absolutely zilch," he replied.

A minute later, she heard "Elliot?"

She glanced over at him, but he made no move towards the radio. She grabbed it up.

"Nothing yet, Captain," she reported.

There was a pause, and she heard the frustration in Cragen's voice when he responded. "Alright…well, keep looking."

"Will do," she confirmed, and put the radio back.

Elliot hadn't said a word in the last fifteen minutes. He looked to be lost in thought, and Olivia sincerely hoped that he hadn't been spending all that time replaying what had happened at the hotel. That kind of ordeal was the stuff that nightmares were made of.

In actuality, Elliot was about near going insane trying to trigger some kind of clue as to where Sean might be headed. He had an unsettled feeling in his nerves, like it was on the tip of his brain and just waiting for that spark to connect.

"_It was four fucking years ago…get the hell over it."_

"_Survival of the fittest, little brother."_

The words seeping through his brain seemed to taunt him. He narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate beyond the explosion of voices his mind was replaying.

He saw Olivia, sitting across the desk from him. _"I missed the whole 'brotherly love' vibe with you guys."_

His brother in his room, pushing his weight against him with the same anger that he'd had as a kid. "_You've forgotten who you're talking to, asshole."_

The memory of the hurt he'd felt when he realized his brother had been lying to him. _"He had marijuana in the trunk of his **squad car.**"_

_Wait a minute_…Elliot's eyebrows jumped suddenly and he froze. Something was there. He was twitching in frustration, his fists unconsciously clenched. _Damn it…_

"_I'm not the one with the problem."_

Sean's cocky smirk invaded his head. _"What can I say? Some people are just born with the bad seed."_

Suddenly, something clicked. "Son of a _bitch_!" he cried out loud, making Olivia jump.

"What?" she asked in alarm.

Elliot was paying no attention as he looked around frantically to a sign to indicate where they were. "Liv, take the next exit," he said urgently. "We're going in the wrong direction."

Startled, she quickly signaled and changed lanes. "What's up?" she asked quickly.

"Head for Rockaway Beach," he said as he hastily picked up the radio again. "The artillery range." He switched to the live frequency. "Captain….Captain!"

"Go ahead, Elliot," Don said, picking up the radio.

"Listen to me," he said, almost clipping Cragen's words off in his rush. "Tell everyone to go to the academy shooting range at Rockaway Beach…that's where he'll be."

His words shocked the captain. "What?" he asked incredulously. "How do you-?"

"Please, Captain!" Elliot cried anxiously, cutting him off again. "Just trust me."

There was a moment of silence as the captain considered his words. "Alright," he said finally, making Elliot sigh with relief. "We're on it."

Cragen switched frequencies again. "All units report to the academy shooting range in Rockaway Beach," he said into the radio. "Repeat, all units report…."

"Come on, Liv," Elliot said frantically, as they listened to the broad band announcement. "Step on it."

"Where the hell are we going?" the red-haired man asked in confusion when he saw the dead end ahead of them. He looked around at the secluded marsh that surrounded them.

"Just stop the car," Sean said, already unbuckling his seat belt.

His friend gave an aggravated growl, but obediently parked. Sean got out. "Pop the trunk," he said, hurrying around the car. "And get out."

Shutting off the ignition, the man hopped out. He was looking around nervously. "Man, come on," he said. "We have to get out of here…the cops could show up any second."

Sean hurriedly began circling the car, squirting lighter fluid from a squeeze bottle. "Just shut the fuck up and help me," he said in annoyance. _How did I get stuck with this pathetic loser?_

The man stopped, looking at him in confusion. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

Huffing loudly, Sean emptied the bottle and stepped around him, shoving the plastic at him. "Just hold this," he said in a rush. He went back to the trunk and pulled out the blow torch.

"Move," he ordered, stepping back.

The man looked bewildered as he backed away. "What are you-?" His sentence was cut short when Sean flipped the switch and aimed the canister at the car. Flames shot up from the roof instantly. He walked around the vehicle, igniting the windows and windshield.

"Hey!" the man cried in horror. "What the hell are you doing? That's my _car_!"

Sean paid no attention, opening the door and igniting the inside as well. The upholstery instantly succumbed to the fire and fed it, making it grow.

He dropped the canister on the ground. "Come on," he said, running past his friend. "We have to move."

The red-haired man whimpered in protest, looking at his car again. A shout from Sean made him turn around and follow after him through the swampy sand.

He could hear the sound of waves crashing somewhere in the distance. "Hey, wait!" he protested, seeing Sean several feet ahead of him.

Sean stopped in agitation, whipping around. "Hurry up," he said impatiently.

"Where are we?" the man asked once he caught up, slightly breathless.

"The back end of the police academy," he answered, keeping his pace. "The artillery range is up ahead, on the beach...its private property, so there's no chance of any stray bullets hitting anybody."

They continued clogging through the wet woodland. A hooting noise was heard in the distance. "This is part of the police academy?" the red-haired man asked in surprise. "It looks like a nature reserve."

"It was," Sean said. "It closed down in the 70's….NYPD made it part of the PT course." He indicated several trails along the dirt. "There are at least thirty jogging paths through these woods."

"Holy…." The word caught in Don's throat when he saw the fireball in the distance. His eyebrows rose in horror. "Dear God," he murmured, signaling for the exit. "Not another one."

Olivia zoomed off of the interstate when she saw the fire ahead. "Damn!" she said in surprise. She screeched the Explorer to a stop a few yards away from the burning vehicle.

Elliot jumped out before she had the ignition turned off. He ran as close to the fire as he could, straining to see around it. Realization stunned him, and he turned to face his partner when she came running up.

"It's the Focus," he said.

She looked at him in horror before looking back to the burning vehicle. "You don't think..?" she began uneasily.

He shook his head quickly. "No," he said. "No way. Not even Sean is that stupid." He looked around them. "It's a distraction…it has to be."

Walking away, he surveyed the ground. "Liv!" he called, seeing footprints on the wet ground. She came over quickly. "Look."

Olivia followed the trail. It was leading to the woods. "Let's go," she said, drawing her gun.

When the captain saw the fire and Elliot's truck parked a few feet away, he immediately assumed the worst.

"Oh, fuck!" he yelled, jumping out of his car.

He ran up to the wreckage, trying to peer through the smoke. He caught a glimpse of a back bumper, and the red paint made him lightheaded with relief.

Sirens echoed loudly as squad cars pulled in beside him. Munch and Fin were among the first to run to him.

Fin had a horrified expression on his face, and Don knew what he was thinking. "It's Sean's car," he hastened to assure. "There's no one inside."

John indicated Elliot's Explorer. "Where did they go?"

Looking around, the captain eyed the woods. "There's only one way _to_ go," he said. He looked at the detectives around him. "Come on."

Sean burst through the last thicket of brush and finally saw the beach. "There," he said in relief, turning back to face his friend.

The man looked past him at the blue Tundra sitting beside the target range. "Hey, alright," he said, enthusiastically. "Four-wheel drive…we'll have no problem getting out of here!"

He looked at Sean with excitement on his face. Sean, however, was looking at him darkly.

"What do you mean 'we'?" he asked snidely.

The man's eyes rounded in surprise. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Sean whipped out his Beretta and shot him point-blank in the chest. The man's expression went from horror to stunned as he slowly sank to the sand.

"Sorry," Sean said, not sorry at all. He replaced his weapon in the holster. "But like I said…I can't leave witnesses."

The sound of a pistol shot made Olivia jump in surprise. She stopped short and whipped around to face Elliot. His eyes were wide.

"Come on!" he cried, taking off into a full-blown sprint.

Cragen jumped at the shot in the distance. "Elliot!" he yelled frantically. He stopped and listened anxiously. Nothing. "Olivia!" No reply. Worry for his detectives made his heart race.

"Pick up the pace!" he cried, starting to run. Munch and Fin were right at his side as the others followed after them.

Sean darted for his truck. He was opening the door when he caught a glimpse of something in his side mirror and whipped around. When he saw his brother and Olivia emerge onto the beach, he quickly slid around the front of the vehicle, hiding himself from view.

Ducking down, he continued to slink towards the bed of the truck while making sure to keep them in his sight. "Oh, no you don't," he hissed, climbing swiftly up. He dropped down flat to avoid being seen and spotted what he was looking for.

"I didn't come this far to have you ruin my plans again," he said aloud, jumping back to the ground.

"There's his truck," Elliot said, aiming his gun. He started to walk toward it.

"Elliot!" Olivia cried, from behind him. Whipping around, he saw her a few feet in the other direction, kneeling next to a body.

When he got to her, he immediately recognized the dead man. "That's the guy from the hotel," he said in surprise, more to himself than Olivia.

Seeing that the man was past saving, she got to her feet. "I don't see Sean," she said, looking around.

"He's got to be around somewhere," he said, looking around as well. He thought a minute. "You head down that way." He pointed down the opposite end of the beach.

She nodded, clutching her gun as she started jogging toward the ammunition supply building at the far end of the beach.

Elliot continued down the abandoned beach, his gaze sweeping the area warily for his brother. He reached the truck and tried the door. Finding it locked, he peered through the windows to see inside. Nothing.

Sean watched Elliot approach the driver's side of the truck and began to creep up towards the front of the truck again.

The captain, Fin, and Munch were the first to break through onto the beach, looking around for the other two.

Munch was the first to see the truck in the distance. His eyes widened when he saw Sean's figure creeping up towards the driver's side, where Elliot was standing, oblivious.

"Elliot!" he shouted, startling the others. They looked at him in surprise when he took off toward the truck.

Olivia whipped around instantly when she heard the shout, not having gotten very far. When she saw detectives running in the opposite direction, she hurried back the way she came.

Elliot was startled when he suddenly heard someone shout his name. Whirling around, he was met with an explosive blue flash from the blow torch his brother was pointing at him.

"_Fuck_!" he screamed, diving instinctively to the ground.

Sean cursed when his aim missed and tried again. Elliot rolled frantically in the sand, twisting to avoid the flames, and dove underneath the truck.

A smile curved Sean's lips as he let up on the gas button. "That wasn't very smart," he said slyly.

Elliot watched his feet circle the truck. "You've got no where to go now," his brother continued, crouching. "So…when I do _this_…"

His words were emphasized by a sudden squeeze on the torch that sent flames spiraling under the truck, inches from Elliot's head.

Elliot scrambled towards the middle quickly, where his brother couldn't reach. His heart thudded frantically in his chest.

"Or…_this_!" Sean surprised Elliot by suddenly appearing in the back of the truck and reaching underneath. The flames shot out again and he yelped, feeling the heat sear along the bottoms of his shoes.

Munch saw Elliot disappear beneath the truck, and his heart quickened when he saw Sean aiming a blow torch into the space he had gone into. He ran faster, pulling ahead of his partner and Cragen.

_God damn it…I've had enough of his games! _ Beneath the initial fear he felt, Elliot's anger came rising to the surface. He was sick of being his brother's pawn…Sean had his chance once. He wasn't getting it again.

Rolling into a ball, Elliot quickly cleared the truck and stood to his feet. He padded soundlessly towards the front end, watching his brother as he crouched down again, thinking he was still underneath.

"Come on, little brother," Sean snarled, straining to see under the vehicle. "You're not walking out of here alive….if you come out now, it will be easier on you."

Seeing his chance, Elliot dove around and tackled Sean, catching him off guard. The blow torch dropped to the ground as Sean whirled around. They both fell to the sand.

"Son of a bitch!" Elliot screamed. "You rotten son of a bitch!"

He rained punched down on his brother's face. But Sean had always been stronger, and Elliot quickly found himself underneath him and pinned. His anger, however, gave him strength that he didn't even know he had.

Sean quickly straddled his brother and reached for his gun. Before he could take it out, Elliot slipped one foot out from under his weight and kicked hard into his ribcage. He grunted and flew backward.

Elliot jumped up quickly and ran over to Sean, hooking an arm around his neck as he got up. Sean choked when his brother squeezed hard, jerking his head down awkwardly.

Snarling, he brought both of his arms up and pushed into Elliot's face, hearing a satisfying smacking sound as he connected. Pain exploded through Elliot's already sore face and he quickly dropped his hold on Sean to cradle his eye.

A minute later, the air rushed from his lungs as his brother head butted him in the stomach, driving them both to the ground again.

Olivia's eyes widened when he saw Sean on top of Elliot, delivering blow after blow to his face. She sprinted as hard as she could, but the others had a good mile on her.

Elliot saw the blood soaking Sean's fists as he continued to pummel his face. He was pinned again, and this time his brother had made sure to put weight on his legs. Figuring that he couldn't feel any worse pain that what he already did, Elliot resorted to desperation and rammed his head into Sean's face.

His brother yelled in pain, and Elliot used the hesitation to jerk him down by the neck beside him. Getting out from underneath him, he scrambled over top of him and grabbed his throat in a crushing grip, ignoring the searing pain from his bandaged hands.

"You bastard," he gasped, completely out of breath and squinting from the blood pouring into his eyes. The iron grip got tighter, and he watched his brother's eyes bulge. "How's it feel? How's it feel to be the victim this time?"

"Elliot!"

The sound of John's voice barely registered through his anger. He had his hands positioned just right. One snap and it would all be over. One snap…

"Elliot!" Munch yelled again. "Stop it, man! Stop!"

He quickly jerked him by the waist, making him fall off of his brother. Fin and the other detectives were swarming Sean before he even had a chance to move.

John kept a firm grip on his friend. He was trembling, bleeding, and growling all at the same time. But, to John's utmost surprise, he didn't try to resist. He stood still, seeming to be in shock.

Elliot blinked, feeling blood running down his chin. His chest heaved, and he couldn't catch his breath. But he could still feel his brother's neck between his hands. He could feel the muscles quivering….how it would feel when they snapped.

He wanted it. God, help him….he wanted to do it.

The others got Sean to his feet and snapped handcuffs on him as Olivia rushed past them.

"Elliot!" she cried. "Are you alright?" She gripped his shoulder gently, feeling the torn shirt beneath her hand.

He didn't seem to hear her as he stared forward silently, unblinking. His face was fixed in stone as he watched his brother.

Cragen came over to them. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, seeing the dangerous look in his eyes. He had seen it many times working with this man, and knew what it meant.

The question finally registered, and Elliot turned his head. He saw Cragen and Olivia both looking at him worriedly.

Looking down, he saw that his bandaged hands were stained with blood. Whether it was his own or his brother's, Elliot couldn't tell.

"No, Captain," he said honestly, his voice strained.

He met the sympathetic eyes of his partner before turning back to look at the others again. Sean was glaring at him from where he stood handcuffed, and his gaze seemed to burn holes into him.

"No," he repeated. His eyes brimmed with tears, but he kept his face stony as he faced the two of them again. His voice wavered as he thought back on all that had happened, and what he realized it said about him.

"I'm not sure if I ever was to begin with."

**The End**

**Author's Note: **So…thought I'd leave it with a little bit of angst in the air. Sorry this took so long, by the way….finals week really sucks. To celebrate the beginning of an anxiously-awaited summer, I am taking a break from all of this heaviness for my next story. I only have five words to say to you: Elliot in a bathing suit. Come on….do you need any other reason to tune in? Thanks for reading, and the new story will be up soon!


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